


The Boy in the Woods

by bluewolf (sarcasmandirony)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, F/M, Implied Torture, Implied Underage, M/M, Minor Character Deaths, Mythology - Freeform, Oral Sex, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:12:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasmandirony/pseuds/bluewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate universe where Derek meets Stiles when he's still a teenager and both Peter and Laura die in the fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Additional tags, warnings and characters will be added as I post it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek finds a boy crying in the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek is fifteen and Stiles is eight years old at the beggining of the fic, the entire chapter comprising a year and a half.

Derek was hidden within the shadows, beside a pine tree. He was staring at a young boy lying on the ground, crying helplessly. Derek had been doing one of his afternoon sprints when he heard the boy’s heartbreaking and unbearable cry, unable to walk away.

After a while, and beside his father warnings to avoid humans as much as possible, Derek walked silently towards the boy. He kneeled beside him and laid a careful hand in his shoulder.

The boy froze, suddenly quiet and still beneath the stranger’s touch. Looked carefully at the man, they boy’s eyes, swollen and dry, widened.

“Who are you?” The boy muttered in a low voice, barely audible against the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Name’s Derek.” Derek answered in a soft and unusual tone. “Yours?”

“Stiles. I’m the sheriff’s son.” Stiles whispered, sort of like a warning and _shit_. Finding the sheriff’s son in the middle of the woods, probably lost, would definitely draw unwanted attention. His father would be furious.

Derek sighed. “What’s wrong Stiles?” He asked.

Stiles buried his head between his arms. “My mom… She died. At least that’s what they said – the doctors. My dad said she was gone, which isn’t true, not really. She’s still in the hospital. Everyone knows where she is.” Stiles whispered amongst sobs.

When Derek was about to retort, Stiles looked at him with wide eyes. “She looked like she was sleeping! Oh my god, what if she was just sleeping? What if she wakes up, buried twenty feet underground?” Stiles asks, horrified.

Derek runs a hand reassuringly through Stiles’ back. “Shush.” Derek whispers in a soft tone. “Doctors are smart. They’d never make a mistake like that. I promise.”

“So… My mom really is dead?” Stiles asked with a whimper.

Derek swallowed, gathering up some courage. “Yes.”

Stiles nods and stays silent for a while. Derek just waits, letting the boy adjust to this new reality. Though Derek didn’t know how one could ever adjust to their whole world crumbling, shattering around them, let alone a small little boy.

“My mom… She was in a lot of pain towards the end…” Stiles let out a sob, incapable of proceeding. Derek could smell fear, sadness and a tiny pinch of a hope in the boy’s scent but, even if he couldn’t, Stiles’ unspoken words would’ve been clear to anyone.

“Wherever she is, your mother is at peace now. No pain.” Derek said as he swallowed again.

Stiles crawled out of his spot between the autumn leaves, his knees skinned, and wrapped his tiny fragile arms around Derek’s neck – Stiles’ head buried in Derek’s chest. Derek, who was caught completely by surprise, hugged Stiles back.

Truth be told, he had never been spiritual, nor he believed in God. But, for this one little boy he’d just met, a boy that broke and warmth his heart all at once, he wished his words were true.

They stayed like that, with Stiles tearing up from time to time, for what seemed like hours. But then again, it could’ve easily been only a few minutes before Stiles looked at him with wide innocent brown eyes. This close, Derek could count each mole on the boy’s face.

“I’m ready to go home now.” He said in a whisper.

“Okay.” Derek nodded. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“Please.” Was Stiles only answer and although Derek would’ve probably followed him, because he’d never let the boy walk alone through the forest in the middle of the night, his pleading voice broke his heart.

Derek stood up, keeping Stiles closely against his chest. He carried the boy safely out of the woods until they got to the main road leading into town. The wind blew and Derek immediately heard a police siren coming their way.

“Your father’s the sheriff.” Derek said.

Stiles nodded against Derek’s wet shirt.

Derek tilted his head towards the town. “Can you hear that?”

Stiles tilted his head to the side, as to try to listen to the faint sound. His mouth opened widely, in fear. “It’s sirens! They’re looking for me… Dad is going to kill me!” He whined, burying his face in Derek’s shirt.

Derek chuckled as he dropped Stiles by the side of the road. The young boy pouted and Derek rolled his eyes. The boy was safe now. There was no need taking unnecessary risks, Derek reminded himself.

“You can never tell anyone that I carried you out.” Derek pleaded, squatting to match Stiles’ height.

“Why?” Stiles asked. “Are you some kind of criminal?” He added, more curious, and intrigued than actually fearful. Derek rolled his eyes again. Clearly being the sheriff’s son had thought him nothing about the dangers of the world. Then again, he was just a kid.

“Just trust me.” Derek said as a beam of light hit them.

Stiles looked to his side when his eyes adapted to the cruiser’s headlights, only to find out that Derek wasn’t there anymore. A deputy got out of the car, asking Stiles if he was okay. After looking around and asking Stiles if there hadn’t been a man with him, just a few seconds ago, Stiles replying with a weak ‘no’, his heart skipping just the slightest bit, he took Stiles to the police vehicle, telling him about how worried his dad was.

Derek watched, hidden in the shadows, as the car drove off – Stiles looking through the window, towards the darkened forest, with squinting eyes.

\---

Stiles came back to the forest a week later, calling for Derek in a high pitched voice. Derek went to meet him after promising his parents he would explain everything to them later, having not yet told them about their previous encounter.

He found Stiles roaming around in the woods.

“You shouldn’t have come.” Derek said, appearing from between the vegetation.

Stiles looked at him, his eyes sore like he had been crying. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, like he hadn’t slept in days. His expression also seemed older, somehow.

“My dad… He does nothing but drink and cry and I don’t know what to do to help him.” Stiles said with a tear fell down Stiles’ face.

Derek sighed and approached the young boy, inviting him to sit on the grass. Derek sit beside him, holding an arm around Stiles’ shoulder and they talked about how each person deals with grieve differently.

Stiles told him how he had panic attacks almost every night and how he’s dad would stay with him until he calmed down, until Stiles went back to sleep.

Derek told him that both the panic attacks and the drinking would eventually stop. And they eventually did. Stiles’ visits didn’t though.

\---

Derek was sitting against a tree when he heard Stiles calling him out. Derek smiled. Stiles’ dad hadn’t drink in a while, so they met only once a week now, instead of everyday. Stiles’ visits were something Derek looked forward to, each week.

“Hi, Derek!” Stiles greeted. “Get up and play with me.”

Derek sighed, standing up.

“Don’t be like that, you love my visits.” Stiles pointed out. “They’re the highest point of your day.”

Derek neither confirmed nor denied, choosing to take a closer look at Stiles instead. The boy was carrying a baseball ball, bat and glove, as well as his ridiculous hoodie. Derek rolled his eyes.

Without much of a choice in the matter, Stiles immediately handed him the glove and the ball.

Apparently, the sheriff had been teaching his son how to play baseball, which led to an hilarious afternoon of Stiles almost never batting the ball. Of course it was all Derek’s fault, Stiles complained.

According to the young boy, Derek and the sheriff were both awful pitchers.

Stiles somehow managed to, in one of the few times he actually hit it, throw the ball somewhat high. Derek jumped and grabbed it with ease. Only when he looked at Stiles’ shocked expression – mouth open and eyes wide – did he remember that not every teenager could do the things he could, like jumping ten feet into the air.

None of them mentioned it, though, apart from Stiles’ whispered _cheater_.

After a few hours (time flew by when they were together), Stiles was on his way to leave when he turned back and looked at Derek with curious eyes.

“Why do you always roll your eyes when I wear my hoodie?” Stiles asked.

“Because it’s ridiculous.” Derek answered dryly.

Stiles’ mouth fell, looking down at his hoodie as if Derek had just insulted the entire human race. It was slightly amusing. “Why? I think it’s funny. And smart. _Witty_.”

“Why?” Derek asked in return.

Stiles flapped his arms, as to show of the hoodie. “Well, it’s red, like in the story, little red riding hood. But, the hood is shaped like a wolf’s head.” Stiles explained, putting on the hood, the little fabric teeth hanging just over his eyebrows. He looked at Derek, his arms stretched, his hands opening and closing, as if waiting for a glimpse of sudden understanding in Derek’s eyes.

“That’s exactly why I think it’s ridiculous.” Derek said with a huff.

Stiles’ mouth opened even more. “You have no sense of humor, Derek Hale.” Then, Stiles smiled childishly. “See you next week.” He chanted as he left.

\---

Stiles and Derek were both sitting against a tree. It was cold, so Derek had handed Stiles the leather jacket he had actually stole from his sister. The young boy still shivered, tough.

“Stiles, maybe you should go back home. I don’t want you getting sick.” Derek said, trying to mimic his mom’s voice when she tried to made them do things they didn’t want to do.

Stiles shook his head against Derek’s shoulder. “No, I’m fine.” He said, after what he was silent for a while, the only noise the sound of his teeth tilting against each other. Derek was pondering picking Stiles up and taking him home himself. “Besides, there’s something I want to ask you.”

Derek smiled with fondness. “Has this something to do with Lydia Martin?” He pointed at the bag Stiles had brought with him. “Is that for her?” Derek asked.

Stiles glanced quickly at the bag, like he had forgotten it was even there. “No. It has nothing to do with Lydia. I don’t even think she knows I exist. Giving her a present would be completely and utterly pointless.” Stiles shook his head. “No, I need to ask you something. About _you_.”

“Oh.” Was Derek’s only response. Stiles took that has his cue.

“Your eyes were blue the first time we met. And shiny.” Stiles started and _shit._ “You jump really high.” _Shit, shit, shit._ “You live in the woods. You never meet me in the full moon. You are homeschooled. Your family almost never goes into town.”

_Shit._ Derek closed his eyes. _Shit._ In that moment he knew that, if Stiles asked, he would tell him the truth, no matter the risks.

The boy did something much worse in the end, tough.

“All of that is connected, right?” Stiles asked.

“Yes.” Derek answered.

Stiles just nodded, seemingly happy with just that.

Stiles, this loyal, incredibly smart and hyperactive young boy trusted Derek for no tangible reason, even if Derek was unworthy of that trust. Derek didn’t know if to hug him or shake him for being so foolish.

He did none of those, though.

They just stayed in silence, leaning against each other, until Stiles’ shivering became unbearable. “Will you go home, now?” Derek asked.

“Hum, I guess.” Stiles got up, handing the bag to Derek. “It’s for you.”

“I can’t.” Derek was able to mutter, after the initial shock.

“Derek, this year we’re having a real Christmas. I’m not panicking, my dad isn’t drinking. We have a tree. The McCall’s are coming and I really wish you could come too, but you can’t, because of your secret and your family and I get it. I do. But during Christmas people buy presents to people they like. It’s the normal thing to do. I want this Christmas to be normal, Derek, even if it’s not. Even if she’s not here. So, please, just take the stupid bag.” Stiles said, with teary eyes. Derek could _feel_ how much strength it took from the little boy just to keep the tears inside.

Derek picked the bag out of Stiles’ shaky hands. “I didn’t get you anything.” Derek said, feeling somehow guilty.

Stiles handed the leather jacket back to Derek, with a smile on his face. “Well, after you see what I bought you, you’ll feel the urge to kill me. So, no biggy.” Stiles said with a shrug, running away.

Derek rolled his eyes.

He only checked the bag when he got home. There were two presents inside, each one with a individual note. One was a rainbow stripped t-shirt.

_Derek, I think I’ve never seen you in nothing that’s not gray or black_. Remember, color is your friend, not your enemy.

The other one was a red glass wolf pendant.

Derek, this wolf pendant reminded me of my hoodie, and of your dry and non-existent sense of humor. Remember, humor is your friend, not your enemy.

Derek shook his head, a low growl coming from his throat.

Stiles was unbelievable.

\---

Derek was sitting on a tree branch, waiting, when he heard steps coming closer.

“Derek?” Stiles called.

Derek jumped from the tree, landing on the ground with a small thud. Stiles turned around, towards the noise, a wide smile on his face, and hugged Derek.

“I’ve missed you and I’m so sorry I didn’t come last week. My dad had a few days off of work because of the holidays and I had to attend boring holiday meetings with my boring family who pinches my cheeks, pats my head, asks about school and talks about how big I am. Cue the awkward silences.” Stiles rambled.

“It’s fine. It’s not like I spent all my time alone in the forest. I have a life and family, too, you know?” Derek reassured.

“Oh, he jokes.” Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand. “Come with me, Derek.” Stiles said and Derek throttled along.

“Where are we going?” Derek asked.

“My house.” Stiles answered.

Derek stopped and Stiles is pushed back, falling unto the ground.

“Ouch.” Stiles complains as Derek helps him get up, shaking the dust from his behind.

“I can’t go to your house, Stiles.” Derek said, crouching down so he was on Stiles’ level.

Stiles rolled his eyes, grabbing Derek’s hand. “I’m not stupid, Derek. My dad is working and you’ll get through the window. And don’t you roll your eyes at me. I have tons of new games and I want you, my friend, to play them with me.” Stiles said, pushing at Derek’s arm with no result.

“What about Scott or your dad?” Derek asked.

“Scott always loses and my dad lets me win! C’mon, I know you probably never played games before, like ever in your life, you probably just stare in the mirror and act all serious, but it’ll be fun, games are fun, Derek. I’ll even teach you how to play.”

Derek sighed and let himself be carried away. They got to Stiles house in half an hour and Stiles left him in the backyard as he ran towards the front of the house. Derek waited by the backdoor as he heard Stiles getting in and running across the house and towards the door, letting Derek in and dragging him to the basement where the console was.

Stiles wasn’t kidding. He had tons of new games. Some of them he had got last year, but hadn’t been able of opening until recently.

Derek and Stiles played multiplayer and co-op games all afternoon. Stiles eyes were on Derek most of the time, he noticed. Every time he swore or shouted at the TV, every time he laughed, Stiles’ eyes were on him, like he was seeing Derek for the first time.

“Cheater.” Stiles said while getting up from the couch to turn off the console. It was late and the sheriff was probably coming home any second now.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Stiles, I play games at my house too. Sometimes I even play them with my brothers, you know, actual human beings.”

Stiles eyes lit and he jumped back unto the couch. “You have brothers? You never talk about your family! Are they older? Younger? Do you have any brother my age? Do you hang out together a lot?” Stiles asked, filled with curiosity, and the questions just kept on coming.

“Stiles, stop.” Derek said, laughing. “I can only answer one question at a time. Besides, your dad’s car just parked outside.” He warned.

Stiles looked up, confuse, and back at Derek, his eyes sparkling like he had just figured out a new part of an exciting puzzle.

Derek sighed. “I’ll tell you all about my family some other time. I promise.” Derek said.

Stiles nodded. “I had a great time.”

Derek smiled. “Goodbye, Stiles.” And he was gone as the front door opened.

\---

“Derek.” Stiles said, after taking a lick out of his melting ice cream. “My dad is sending me to summer camp this summer. It’s going to be really cool, and Scott is coming as well and my dad arranged for us to be in the same cabin. So, yeah, best summer ever. But I… won’t be able to see you.” He said, looking at Derek with wide eyes. Like this, Stiles’ face only illuminated by the sunrays coming through the holes between the leaves, he looked almost angelic, or as an angel would look with ice cream all over his hands, nose and mouth.

“It’s okay, Stiles. I actually wanted to talk to you about our meetings. I’ve been pondering about getting a job this summer and through next year to gather money for when I go to college. I also met this one girl the other day, at the beach, and we actually arranged to meet tonight… Stiles, where are you going?” Derek asked when Stiles got up.

“Away. As you said, you’re going to be busy and I don’t want to be a burden. Good luck with your girlfriend.” Stiles said, walking away.

Derek could smell that the boy felt hurt, he just didn’t know why.

“Stiles, don’t be like that.” Derek said, getting up. “We can still meet sometimes, only not as often and at different hours. Stiles!” He called, but the boy didn’t look back.

Stiles started to run, the stick from his ice cream falling on the ground and Derek almost swore he heard him sob. It broke his heart knowing he was the one to make Stiles feel like that.

Even if he didn’t exactly know the reason.

Derek went by Stiles’ house the next day and heard laughter coming from what he imagined was Stiles’ room. He must’ve been with Scott McCall, because Derek could hear them talk about summer camp.

Derek let Stiles be.

As time went by, Derek realized that Stiles probably wanted to close this chapter of his life, one painful chapter that started with his mother’s death.

Even if it hurt Derek a little, even if he had grown accustomed to the boy’s laughter, playfulness and constant babbling, he understood Stiles’ decision.

With the end of summer, his time was taken almost in its entirety by school, work and Kate and it didn’t left him much time to think about Stiles.

The boy didn’t look for him either, until that faithful day where everything changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I will try to update it soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this alludes to feelings for a minor (between a 18 year old and a 12 year old). The sexual attraction is only from Stiles' side, Derek is no pervert!

“Are you ever going to return my leather jacket?” Laura asks, standing by the door of his room, arms crossed across her chest while Derek’s tying his shoes, the leather jacket lying in the bed beside him.

“No, it’s too big for you, anyway.” Derek replied, getting up and putting it on.

“I’ll tell mom and dad.” Laura warned.

“Oh, will you?” Derek asked, lifting a brow. “Then maybe I’ll tell them why the jacket is too big for you. Your ex-boyfriend might’ve been a jerk, but I don’t think our parents will be all that happy with you _stealing_.”

A vocal vibrant laugh was heard from one of the other rooms in the house – Mark.

Laura looks in the direction of the noise, off guard, and sends Derek a dirty look, quickly closing the door of his room, like that would keep Mark from dropping in on their conversation. “Shut up, dumbass. If our parents were home, I’d skin you.” Laura threatened.

Derek smirked. “You would try.”

Laura shows him his tongue and Derek couldn’t believe she was actually older than him, from the way she behaved sometimes. Then she jumped on top of his cabinet, eyeing him knowingly.

“So, are you going to see Stiles?” She asked.

Derek furrowed his eyebrows. They didn’t talked about the boy a lot, but Derek had seen him for a year and a half and he still hadn’t told anyone about Kate, so they probably thought that, whenever he was thought, he was probably with him. “No.” He said, wishing that werewolves didn’t came with attached lie detectors. It would’ve made everything much easier. “I haven’t seen Stiles in over a year.”

 Laura seemed confused, but then her expression was replaced by something else – suspicion. “Why? I mean, everyone noticed you were kind of upset last year, but then things…” Laura trailed off, tilting her head, thoughtful, like she had just figured something out.

“I don’t really know.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” Derek sighed. He really didn’t want to talk about this. “I just told him I wouldn’t have much time to see him during the summer, but he was going to a summer camp anyway.” Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. “I also told him about Kate.”

“Who is Kate?” Laura asked, lifting an eyebrow – a glim in her eyes.

“My girlfriend.” He said, approaching Laura as her mouth widened in a wolfish grin, placing his hands in her knees. “Don’t even think about telling mom and dad, Laura, she’s… older.”

“How older?”

“It doesn’t matter. My birthday is coming soon and then it won’t matter, anyway. Promise me.” He pleaded, his tone serious.

“Derek, honey” Laura started, cupping his face in her hands “I would never tell our parents, since I can see she’s not harming you, and neither will Mark.” Laura warned, increasing her volume just a bit.

“Yeah, yeah.” Mark muttered, distracted by something. He was probably playing some game from the clicking noises and the muffled noise.

Laura looked back at Derek. “You’ve known her for a year.” She whispered, more to herself than to Derek, thinking about something.

“Laura…”

“I won’t t tell our parents!”

“Then why do you smell like this?”

Laura rolled her eyes. “Because I’m holding something back, I am.” Laura got up, patting him on the shoulders. “You’ll find out why Stiles left, eventually. In the meantime, have fun running off with your cougar.” Laura said with a wink, running out and closing the door as Derek threw a ball towards her.

\---

Derek and Kate are sat down at the beach – Kate sprawled in between Derek’s legs, her head resting in Derek’s stomach.

A slightly autumnal breeze sets in as Derek lays a kiss in Kate’s hair, listening to Kate’s steady heartbeat, the waves bursting violently into the sand, the seagulls gawking up in the sky and the faded noise of feet crushing the sand beneath them.

It was soothing. Derek felt good.

“What do you think about dinner?” Derek whispers against Kate’s hair.

“We never actually get to the eating part that often.” Kate retorts, a smirk dancing around her lips as she wiggles her fingers up and down Derek’s leg.

“With my family.” Derek clarifies, rolling his eyes and holding back a chuckle.

“Oh.” Kate answers.

“We barely do anything but have sex and, don’t get me wrong, I like it, but sometimes I feel like we should just talk sometimes. I want you to know me, know my world. And I want to know yours.” Derek says, rubbing his palms against Kate’s arms.

Kate seems a bit nervous and uneasy for a while and Derek is almost sorry he brought it up, thinking that maybe he was moving too fast when in reality he knew little about relationships, maybe this was just the way things were, when Kate suddenly relaxes beneath him, patting him on the leg.

“Fine, dinner it is, as long as we don’t have to dine with my side of the family any time soon.” Kate answers, as a joke but Derek can taste her fear though, the truth in her sarcastic tone.

“It’s going to be alright.” Derek reassures, rubbing his fingers soothingly against Kate’s face. “It’s not like we’re going to get married or anything.” Derek jokes.

Kate doesn’t laugh. She just shakes her head and turns around, a devilish smirk in her lips. She pushes Derek down against the sand. “Enough chit chat.” Kate says, leaning in as they kiss.

\---

Kate gets out of the car and into the chilly night air, tucking her jacket tighter against her body. She looks at the mansion and then at the forest surrounding it. “The Hales live close by, don’t they?” Kate asks, curious.

Derek looks at her and she stares back at him, waiting. “We are the Hales.” Derek answers back, sighing, suddenly questioning this dinner and his decision to come out to Kate. Despite the year they’ve been dating, they barely know each other.

“Oh.” Kate says – her eyes becoming wide.

Derek shakes his head. He and Kate have something, he knows that. He can feel it. This is the girl he lost his virginity to. Derek trusts her. They just don’t talk that much, that’s all.

Derek approaches Kate, offering her an arm.

Kate hesitates for a little bit, looking carefully at Derek’s arm. Then, she just shakes her head and takes Derek’s arm into her own.

“Are you okay?” Derek asks, unable to smell her emotions.

Kate just nods.

\---

The dinner goes by smoothly. At least at the surface.

Kate plays nervously but adeptly with a knife the entire dinner and his family… Well, his family tries to be nice, but there’s this tension in the air that intensifies every time his family notices how little they actually know each other.

When the dinner is over and Kate excuses herself to go to the bathroom, everyone turns to him. His father is the first to speak and boy, is he mad. “First that boy in the woods and now this girl you barely met, seriously Derek, are you trying to expose us!?” His father whispers, his voice filled with anger and disbelief nonetheless.

“He was crying in the woods! He needed my help! And I never actually told him anything, despite him being nothing but trustful towards me!” Derek whispers angrily and sighs, his heart stinging. He missed the young boy. “Besides, Stiles has nothing to do with this. I love Kate, we love each other. I want her to know the truth about me.”

His father takes a hand to his face, trying to control himself. Derek’s mother places a hand on his father’s arms and he can see the older man relax under the touch, he can feel it.

“Derek, honey, I’m sure you two like each other very much” At which Laura rolls her eyes “but are you sure you want to tell her? Your relationship seems so recent.” His mother says.

“Yeah, besides, she’s an _empty_ …” Laura starts but Derek growls at her.

“Derek.” His father warns.

“Oh, please, even you know it and you might try to deny it, but we all except mom and Lily heard your heart skip a bit.” Laura revealed and Derek felt the anger building up inside him. “You’re just fooling yourself.”

“Don’t tell me how _I_ feel.” Derek barked.

“Both of you, shut up!” His mother snaps at both of them, turning to Derek with caring, understanding eyes. “I know the lie seems crushing now and trust me, I’ve been on the other side, I know how it hurts to have things hidden from you, but you should give it time. Just wait until you’re certain she’s the right one.”

“I’m going to tell her! I can’t lose her too, I won’t.” Derek says, shaking his head and ignoring the confused looks from his entire family but Laura. “She needs to know!”

“I need to know what?” Kate asks.

Derek looks at her. “What I really am.” He says, shifting.

\---

Derek closes the door of Kate’s apartment behind them. Kate had wanted to leave after that, no questions, no nothing. Derek still couldn’t smell her.

“Please, say something.” Derek pleads, starting to panic.

“I’m an Argent.” Kate says and Derek feels like he’s been slapped. He knows that name all too well. The Argents are a cautionary tale for werewolves, almost legendary. “I didn’t know who you were.” She shakes her head, covering her mouth. “Maybe I should go. Leave town. It’ll be for the best. I don’t want to hurt you.” She says with teary eyes and even though he can’t smell her, Derek knows she’s telling the truth.

Derek approaches her and hugs Kate tightly against him. Kate’s body becomes tense, frozen. “Stay. I - I love you.” He mutters and Kate relaxes against his touch, hugging him back.

Maybe, just maybe, they could make this work. 

\---

“She’s an Argent?” His father yells and one of his baby cousins upstairs starts to cry. “You’ve put as all at risk!”

“She’s not like that!” Derek shouts back, his voice higher than his dad’s.

“How do you know that? How long can’t you smell her?” His dad yells even louder.

“Since today! And you know very well that sometimes when a person is nervous or confused it can shield their emotions!” Derek shouts, starting to climb the flight of stairs.

“Don’t you turn your back at me!” His father shouts with his alpha’s voice and Derek freezes dead on his tracks, unable to move. It’s the first time his dad ever used it on one of them and, in that moment, Derek hates him for exerting that kind of power over him.

His father sighs, defeated and Derek can feel his regret, but what’s done is done. He turns around to face his dad.

“Good thing mom isn’t a wolf or…” He starts, but his mother raises an arm, the veins in her throat bulging out, urging him to stop.

“Leave him be, Grace.” His father says, soothing his wife. “You can go to your room, if you want.” He says to Derek and he just walks away.

From then on, Kate is forbidden from going to the Hale house. Derek doesn’t spend much time there either and despite Laura’s constant attempts at socializing, his family and him barely speak now.

He spends most of his time in Kate’s house, until he leaves for college.

\---

“I’m sorry, Kate, is this a bad time?” Derek asks when he hears rustling, car horns and Kate calling someone names, during one of his daily phone calls to Kate.

She grunts. “Sort of. My dad wants to talk to me and whatever he says is law.” Kate sighs. “Anyway, I’m heading there now.”

“Is everything okay?” Derek asks.

“Yeah. I’ll call you back when I can, Derek.” Kate says, turning off the phone.

One week later, the beacon hills police department calls his dorm room.

\---

Derek knocked violently at the apartment’s door, crying desperately, his eyes drowning in the tears he had been keeping inside for what seemed forever.

He heard Kate dragging a chair and stuffing some papers away.

“I’m going!” Kate shouted, almost running towards the door. “What?” She asked, annoyed as she opened the door, before seeing it was Derek, before noticing the tears in his eyes.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “What happened?” Kate asked, her voice soft but steady.

She seemed worried, concerned for Derek but he couldn’t smell her emotions. He couldn’t for a while now. He needed to feel someone cared, though. He desperately needed it. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Derek walked right past her, taking his hands to his head, brushing them through his hair while trying to find his voice.

“What’s wrong, Derek?” Kate asked, closing the door behind her and approaching him, placing a careful hand in his back – Derek noticing she was shaking.

“They’re all dead.” He muttered. The words breaking him up inside all over again, just like they had broke him when the sheriff spoke them. “Burned.”

Kate grabbed his arm, yearning him to face her and hugged him while Derek fell apart in her arms.

“My parents... Laura…” He said between sobs. “All of them.”

“I’m so sorry, Derek.” Kate said, her heart skipping a bit.

Derek buried his head in Kate’s hair, breathing in. That was when he finally smelled her again. Her emotions were a mess and she lost her control. Derek could feel her sadness, her guilt, but also the deception and the sick happiness of getting away with a lie. Getting away with what she had done.

In less than a second, Derek was plastered against the wall, his skin burning where she had touched him. Her smell was on him. It was everywhere and Derek felt like throwing up. They were right. His family was right.

When he looked back at Kate, he instantly saw it in her eyes that she knew he knew. She turned away and ran to the cabinet where Derek knew she kept her gun, charged with wolfsbane.

Anger filled up inside him. His wolf could smell her fear and it was ready to hunt. Kate had taken away everything and everyone he held dear, so Derek let the wolf take charge, shifting.

He was faster than Kate, stronger.

In a second, Kate was under his tight grip, unable to move. His claws rubbing softly against the skin of her neck, the skin that he loved, the skin that sicken him.

She refused to cry, standing strong, beside the intense fear Derek could smell in her. That only made the wolf more eager, only made him angrier.

“I didn’t want to.” She said, the plead clear in her voice. _Please, don’t kill me._ “My father found out about you, about _us_. He was going to kill me!” All of that was true, Derek could feel it, the despair and betrayal but there was something else.

He inhaled deeply, the wolf tightening his grip around Kate’s neck. “There were innocent people in that house, people that never hurt anyone! There were children that were nothing but human!” Derek shouted against her ear – his voice filled with so much hate and disgust he almost didn’t recognize himself.

“He didn’t care.” She throttled. But there was more. Something else left unsaid.

“Then say you’re sorry.” Derek threatened. Challenged. Begged.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered between a squeal. Her heartbeat, racing until then, skipped another beat. Derek only smelled her fear. His eyes widened, growling. Kate didn’t cared that she had killed innocents, not really.

To her, they were just collateral damage to kill a greater evil, nothing more.

The wolf laughed at her pathetic attempt of a lie, breaking Kate’s neck with a fast twist of his hand and Derek felt numb, empty. He wanted to die.

She hissed before the lifeless body of the girl Derek once loved, of the girl he still loved – the girl that killed everyone he loved – fell with a thud on the floor.

Derek stood there until the anger left his body. Until he turned back into a human and his hands started to tremble. Until the magnitude of what he had just done hit him. He had killed someone – a human being. He was nothing but a monster his family had never been. A monster like Kate was.

When his head cleared off, he remembered something Kate told him once, when they discussed what it meant for a werewolf and a hunter to be in a relationship together, as a joke, in what seemed like ages ago. _An Argent never breaks the code. At least not with his bare hands._

Derek remembered the papers he heard Kate store away before rushing to open the door. In that moment, the anger came back. She hadn’t murdered his entire family alone. She had help, someone who did the dirty work for her.

Derek started to look for the papers. He looked for a while, dumping entire cabinets on the apartment’s floor, tearing up furniture.

Eventually, he found an envelope with her father’s address. He opened it. Inside it there were photos, e-mail logs, police records. He looked at the records. _Arson._ Just like the police suspected. He also found a school record of one chemistry teacher.

He took the records, thinking how easy it had been, until he remembered something else Kate said. _Argents never leave loose ends._

Oh, god, he had been so blind. She was nothing but a crazy psychopathic bitch. And he loved her. And it disgusted him.

Now he only needed to do one more thing before he left – leave a message for the Argents.

\---

Derek was running in all fours, following the arsonists scent.

They were two drunken hoboes who liked to wander around in the woods. Derek had spotted them a couple of times along the years. If he had known then, he would’ve ended their pathetic and miserable lives ages ago, just like they deserved.

A shout cut through the silent night’s air – the voice awfully familiar.

Derek stopped mid run and listened carefully, hopeful and fearful.

“Derek!” Stiles shouted again and his voice made Derek’s wolf calm down just enough for him to shift back. Oh god, how he missed the young boy’s voice and his sweet cinnamon scent. He looked at his hand, staring at the heavy envelope gripped tightly between his fingers.

Stiles shouted Derek’s name again – his voice urgent and pleading.

Derek went to meet him, without thinking about it twice.

Finding Stiles was easy – he was always so loud.

Derek growled once he found the young boy, so his presence would be noted. Stiles turned around, sighing in relief at the sight of Derek until he looked better at the older man.

“Don’t do it.” Stiles said in a low soft voice, almost a whimper.

Derek said nothing in return.

Stiles approached him clumsily, taking the envelope off his hands, dropping it and cupping Derek’s hands into his. “Oh, god, Derek, you’re shaking.” He noted.

Derek looked away. He couldn’t face those wide brown eyes, filled with concern, sorrow and compassion, of which Derek deserved none.

He felt a hand caress his face, soft and caring, forcing him to look back at Stiles. Derek let it.

“Don’t do it, Derek.” He said, eyes looking right into Derek’s. If only Stiles knew, he would be nothing but disgusted, terrified, because Derek was a monster. “I know everything feels hopeless now. But it will get better.”

“So all of this, all this pain, it will simply go away, is that what you’re saying!?” Derek almost shouted, his voice louder and harder than he intended it to be. His wolf was right beneath the surface, wanting to claw his way back out, finish what he had started and take revenge on those who had taken him everything.

“No. The pain will stay with you, forever. It’ll never go away. But you’ll learn to deal with it, to live with that pain.” Stiles said with watering eyes. “Don’t do something you’ll regret later, Derek.” Stiles whispered.

 _Fuck._ He was crying. His pain was too much. _Stiles_ was too much.

“What if I’m not who you think I am.” Derek whispered, wanting to look away, but Stiles’ hand was still in place. It was so funny how strong someone could be, even a young boy like Stiles, just because you let them.

One of Stiles’ hands went from cupping Derek’s hands to linger around his chest – his heart – until Stiles pressed it softly against his heartbeat.

“I know you, Derek.” Stiles said in a low weak voice. Derek snorted. “You are the grumpy teenager that found a young boy crying in the woods and carried him to safety. That met him every day for two months, every week for a year and half. Who was never nothing but kind to that annoying little boy. That is who you are.” Stiles said, his tone steady and certain, despite the tears.

Derek, crying and tired, rested his forehead against Stiles’. That was when he felt it – the teen’s arousal. But there was something more beneath it. A feeling he had smelled every week for a year and a half, a feeling that was pure, innocent and kind. Derek felt it too, the unconditional love. He knew that now – it was love. It was so easy to identify it once coupled with the other.

The boy in the woods saved him.

He was also the reason why Derek had to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm not too happy with this, but I'll never be so here it is.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek deals with the loss of his family and, when he finally gets settled into a somewhat confortable life, he's hunted by ghosts of his past (that manifest themselves in more than one way).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of this chapter is a little bit depressive, but it gets better!

Derek wakes up coughing – his breathing shallow. He immediately smells the toxic suffocating scent of smoke and wolfsbane, hears the deafening sound of raging flames.

Derek tries to get up, to warn his family, save them before it is too late, but falls hard on the floor instead – no strength left in his body.

He hears coughing coming from the bed and notices his mom had been sleeping beside him, which didn’t happen in years. That anomaly is almost immediately thrown to the back of Derek’s mind, though, when she continues coughing, choking on the smoke, unable to breathe.

Derek closes his eyes, incapable of moving – worthless. He is left there with no other choice but to be drowned by his senses, quickly overwhelmed by it all.

The infernal heat is too much, the scarring muffled screams of his dying family, barely audible through the furious roar of the unforgivable flames, are too much – more than anyone should ever go through.

When the sickening smell of burning skin gets to him, Derek throws up – his eyes filling up with burning tears.

\---

Derek wakes up, throwing up by the warehouse floor where he’d just been sleeping in.

The unbearable scent of smoke, wolfsbane and burned skin is still in the air, in Derek, still leaves him choking, fighting for a breathe, even if now it’s nothing more but an echo of his alpha’s – his _father_ ’s– last memory.

Derek tries to get away from the smell, from the vomit lying on the floor, but he can’t get way, he can’t get far enough, the smell is everyone, rooted in his mind and he hits one of the warehouse walls – trapped.

It’s all too much and Derek carves his nails – his _claws_ – into his arms. He growls from the acute pain but, instead of stopping, he deepens the claws into his flesh, the physical pain freeing him from the unbearable emotional pain.

Tears roll down Derek’s face as the pain drowns all of his other senses, as the ashes leave him, at least for now.

But for now is good enough for Derek.

\---

The sky is gray, the ocean’s raging.

Derek feels tired, so, so tired. He can’t deal with the guilt, the pain, the loss and the everpresent horrifying nightmares of his family’s deathanymore.

“I’m sorry.” Derek whispers to the wind, leaping into the stormful seas, welcoming the cold touch of the darkened waters.

\---

Derek feels a pressure in his chest, pulling him out of the darkness.

He coughs, throwing up the salt water that fills his lungs, that burns his throat.

“Mommy, is he okay?” A childlike voice filled with worry asks in a whisper.

“Yeah honey, he’s gonna be alright now.” A woman says through a relieved sigh.

Derek turns to the side, coughing out more water, his stare finding a little boy with teary eyes, wearing a red hood. Derek closes his eyes, feeling the tears coming, coughing out even more water.

\---

Derek tries to commit suicide two more times. He jumps in front of a train and out of the top floor of a high building. Every time his werewolf healing powers bring him back and every single time a red-hooded young boy is there, watching him with tearful brown eyes.

\---

Derek eventually gives up. The pain eventually fades. It doesn’t go away, not completely, not ever. It’s still there, always by his side, just like Stiles had said, a trustful companion, much like his wolf.

\---

Derek follows a nervous man into an alley, lurking after him in the shadows. By now he had seen it all. Drug traffic, gun traffic, mugs, rapes and even murders. Derek helped the victims whenever he could, but that wasn’t his main goal. He was not a hero, he wasn’t looking for redemption – that was something completely out of his reach.

He was after something else.

Looking closely at the guy, Derek noticed this one looked mostly healthy, apart from the shaky hands. Maybe Derek finally got lucky.

After a while, the nervous man found a leather-jacketed guy waiting by a dumpster.

“Did you bring it?” The man with shaky hands asked.

“Did you bring the cash?” The dealer asked with a smug grin, his figure irradiating confidence.

The impatient man sank his hand deeply into his pockets, digging out a roll of bills and dropping the cash in the dealer’s hand.

“Nice. Here you go.” The dealer said, handing out an envelope that the nervous man gripped tightly, eagerly looking inside.

“Is everything here?” He asked.

“Yup. I.D., bank account number, passport – the complete package, and all under the alias you previously chose. Everything you need to start a brand new life.”

The shaky guy nodded, walking away as the dealer finished counting the bills. “It’s always a pleasure doing business with you, sunshine.” He said with a smile, turning away to face Derek.

“Hum, hi buddy.” The dealer greeted. “This was a private meeting.”

Derek just looked at him with a blank expression.

“Okay… bye then.” He said, trying to dodge Derek.

Derek simply arched up an eyebrow and moved aside, barring the dealer’s path.

“I need a favor.” He says.

The dealer laughs. “I don’t do favors, buddy. Besides, this is not how this works. There’s a chain of command. You can’t just come in here and look at the catalog. So, just back off and stop wasting my time.”

Derek says nothing. The dealer rolls his eyes and turns around, facing Derek yet again. He looks back, to where Derek was, half confused, half shocked, scrapping his head. “What the…?” He mutters to himself, looking at Derek with a defiant look.

They dance for a while, the dealer trying to dodge Derek and Derek barring his every move. Eventually, the dealer gets fed up, lifting his jacket and taking out a gun. “Okay, buddy, this has been fun and all, but I have to go now.” He threatens, wiggling the gun around at Derek’s face.

Derek feels his annoyance, frustration, but also the fear cradling beneath his skin. In that moment, he knew the guy probably never had shot a gun before.

Derek smirked and the dealer’s eyes widened, his fear deepened. Then, with one fluid movement, Derek yanked the gun out of the dealer’s grip, pinning him tightly against a wall. “You’re going to arrange me an envelope just like the one you gave that guy.” Derek said, calmly. “No need to look at a catalog.” He added with a grin.

“Or what?” The dealer demanded.

Derek tilted his head, his smile widening, showing off his teeth.

He looks at the dealer and shifts – a shout vibrating through the dark, empty alley.

\---

The elevator door opens and Derek steps outside, seeing the real estate lady and walking towards her.

“Good day, Mr. Booth, what do you think of the apartment?” She asked as they shook hands.

“It’s nice. Very recent and, hum, modern… looking.” Derek said and that was enough to make the lady start to talk about the specifics of the building and, as they stepped into the apartment, of the apartment itself.

Derek tuned her out, his attention caught by the high windows of the apartment that showcased a marvelous view of the city below them, completely breath taking. He looked up, to the second story that floated over them and ran towards the stairs, during which the lady stopped talking.

In the second story, he stepped into the handrails and opened his arms, taking in a deep breath – it felt like it was flying, like he was with them.

The woman released a high pitch squeal. “Mr. Williams, please be careful!”

There was nothing to be worried about, since he had perfect balance, but he tipped forward just to hear the woman release another squeal. Then, he looked down at the lady with wide eyes, covering her mouth with one hand.

Derek smirked. “I’ll take it.” 

\---

Derek took excursions through the city, which he forced upon himself for the sole reason that Laura would’ve killed him if she knew he had moved to a major metropolis and spent all his days brooding in his room, feeling sorry for himself.

Moving to a big city had always been one of Laura’s dreams and she had actually spent one entire month in New York but, being part of a pack meant that you never felt entirely confortable unless you were in close proximity with the rest of its members. When Derek had moved away to college, even if he didn’t speak to them at the time, he felt like some part of him was missing.

So he visited all the places Laura would’ve loved. Museums, art galleries, he went to see plays and listen to musicals. He sat in a park watching street performers and looked for hidden bookshops, coffees and restaurants. Sometimes he could almost feel Laura there and that always made a tear crawl up in the corner of his eyes.

During one of his excursions, he found a little and secluded second hand bookshop with a rustic feel that had a sign painted in earthy tones, to mimic old paper, which read simply ‘hiring’.

Derek came in, the bell announcing his entrance. The smell inside the bookstore was very distinct, the musky scent of dilapidated books, sort of like a forest as it ages. As Derek walked through the shelves towards the counter, he smelled lipstick, the bitter taste of coffee, juice and even cum.

When she was alive, Derek had never set foot in the second hand bookstore Laura had opened in Beacon Hills. The first and only time he tried, when Laura convinced Derek and Mark to help her carry shelves, couches, tables and a counter inside, it was like someone had hit him with the scent of a thousand people’s private afternoon.

Seeing the fat, greasy, hairy and bald man standing behind the counter, the stench of the sweat almost making Derek run the other way, he wondered what had been of Laura’s bookstore.

The man looked up from the book he was reading, looking Derek from top to bottom. “Every day from seven in the morning to five in the afternoon with a pause for lunch and the payment sucks.” He said with a gruff voice.

“I take it.”

\---

Derek is leaning against the counter when the bell rings for the first time in five days and a floral smell waves into the store, the type that his mother liked to use and made his father wrinkle his nose every time she sprayed a little too much of it, which was always an indication that she was mad about something and everyone sneezed for the entire week, the smell lingering around the house, taking root in the fabrics.

A sizzling noise also filled the room and Derek grimaced as a young woman walked into view, carrying a hand card filled with books.

She looked at Derek and her eyes widened, a shy smile appearing in her lips as she tried to look away. “What happened to Hugo?” She asked.

“Who?”

“The man who worked here before” she said as she approached the counter, looking down and waving with her hands “with the… lack of hair.”

“He quitted, I was hired.” Derek answered lifting an eyebrow at the pile of books.

The woman looked up at him and then to the handcart, following Derek’s gaze. “Oh, yeah, that. I love reading but I usually never touch the same book twice so I come here once a week to drop them off.”

“You mean that is just from this week?” Derek asked in disbelief.

“Hum, yeah. I’m a bookworm.” She said, shrugging.

“What am I supposed to do with them?”

“Hugo used to write the name and the edition, send them to the owner and she’d e-mail him the price.”

“So, you’ll be back tomorrow?”

“Actually, Mrs. Robinson clashes with technology, so probably just next week, but it’s no problem.” She said, picking the books one by one and dropping them by the counter. “My number is in the phonebook under Emily, so you can call me whenever Mrs. R sends you the price tags.”

“Fine.” Derek grunted. “At least I’ll have something to do for a couple of hours.”

“You dusted the shelves and washed the floor.” Emily pointed out. “In the two years I’ve been coming here, I’ve never seen the place so clean.”

“Yeah, it was time and work well spent. As you can see, the place is crowded.” Derek said dryly.

Emily looked around, like she hadn’t noticed how deserted the store was. Then she looked at Derek and took her cellphone out of her pockets, taking a picture of him. “Well, I bet you’ll have costumers by tomorrow.” She said. “And I’m glad that Hugo quitted.” Emily added with a wave.

Derek lifted his eyebrows at that.

The next day, the small and rustic bookstore was drowned by college girls smiling and fawning themselves in front of him.   

\---

The bell of the store rang, but Derek didn’t pay it much attention. Nowadays the noise was almost a constant in the bookstore, with people always coming in and going out. Though they didn’t really buy much, they just stood there, foiling pages of books and pretending not to stare at him.

It was rather annoying.

Emily appeared from behind a row of shelves, looking at the new clientele and, when her eyes lay on Derek, she smiled widely.

“I see the place is a bit more active.” She tells him, approaching the counter.

“Yeah, next time try bringing in paying costumers instead of one that drool all over my floor. What did you do, actually?”

“I just posted a couple of fliers all around college with your picture and the store’s address.” She shrugs. “Besides, it seems people find your rigid mouth and furious stares.” Emily states, tilting her head towards a couple of girls who turned their attention back to the books they were holding, giggling, as soon as Derek looked their direction.

“It’s supposed to have the opposite reaction.” Derek said, shaking his head and looking for the piece of paper where he’d noted the book prices.

“That’s why it’s so adorable.”

“Well, next time you think about posting my photo around, don’t.”

“Noted.”

Derek finds the sheet and shows it to Emily.

“… Hum, this is really weird because I don’t know how you’re called.”

Derek sighs. “Shawn.” He lies.

“Well, Shawn, this place is the only one I know in town that will actually give me money for my old books, so just give me the money.”

Derek nodded, fetching the bills from the register and handing them to Emily.

“Thanks.” She said. “And now that you have more people coming in, you should think about investing in a camera by the entrance or people can just come in and take whatever books they want.”

Derek smiled, and it wasn’t even a smirk, because seriously, who ever thought having a shelve blocking the view to the door lived in some kind of utopic world where ‘stealing’ didn’t exist.

Emily’s eyes sparkled, looking down at his lips.

“I’ll take your concerns to Mrs. Robinson.” Derek said.

Emily nodded, turning to leave but looking back almost instantly. “Do you want to go out some time?” She asked.

Derek was caught off guard by the question. He didn’t really go out with anyone since… well, since Kate. And despite knowing that this is probably a bad idea, he finds himself nodding. “I get out at five.” He said.

Emily smiled widely and left.

Derek let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. When he looks to the counter, he notices there are claw marks when his fingers are pressed against the hardwood surface. Looking around the store, he’s relieved to find that everyone was so distracted by his face to notice anything else, letting out a deep sigh.

\---

The date goes rather well.

They end up eating a couple of burgers by a stairway in the middle of the street.

Emily is fun, intelligent and educated. She aspires to be a college history teacher and is a voluntary in a soup kitchen. She has awful taste in music and she used to make plays in her backyard as a child, dressing her younger brother in small period gowns, something Derek can relate since Laura used to do the same, without the play parts, of course. And Mark would laugh, the bastard.

Derek tries to let Emily know how much about him as he can, despite the discomfort and the ever present voice in his head telling him _don’t trust her_. But Derek his fears are unfounded, since he scrutinizes every word, every beat of heart, any physiological response. He tells her that he has no idea what he wants to do in the future. Maybe something tied with animals.

As Derek tries to get ways to be as truthful as possible, he realizes that Emily will never able to know who he is, what he is and what happened simply because Derek can’t say it and probably will never be able to again.

The time goes by rather quickly and as soon as Derek notices it, he is saying giving a kiss on Emily’s cheek at the door of her apartment building.

“Do you want to meet again sometime?” Emily asks him.

Derek was about to say yes when, on the end of the street, his eyes see a boy in a red hoodie staring at him with curious eyes and the corners of his mouth turned downwards, in slight disappointment.

“I’m sorry.” Derek says simply, his voice weak and feeling the tears welling to his eyes.

Emily nods, looking a bit confused, getting into the building.

They only see each other in the bookstore from then on.

\---

Derek is storing books into shelves when a teenage girl approaches him with a flirty smile. “Where can I find Twilight? I can’t find it in the vampire section.” She said, blatantly blinking her eyes.

“Try the young adult section.” Derek answered, going back to book shelving.

The girl stood there for a little while until she finally went away, looking somewhat disappointed.

When she found the book, Derek walked to the register and there were no smiles or chit chat this time.

Then she left the bookstore and a few seconds later the bell rang as the door opened.

A man approached Derek, looking around the store, his stare falling into a young couple flipping pages and giggling in the erotic section – a smirk drawing itself in the man’s lips.

“Hello, Derek.” The stranger said and Derek, suddenly hyper vigilant, aware of the danger, recognized the man from a picture in Kate’s house – her brother. He was ready to charge. “Could you direct me to the werewolf section?” He asked.

When Chris Argent left, Derek immediately called his boss to quit his job, called his landlord to say he was leaving the building, quickly closing the shop, grateful that he always had his leather jacket with him, since the hunters were probably already in his house. He dumped his phone by a garbage can, ready to skip town, to start everything all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, there's no actual Stiles in this chapter. The next chapter will be longer and Stiles will be heavily featured, I promise! *wink*


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek's life has evolved into some sort of a routine. He settles into a new town, gets a new job and the same old hunters appear right when Derek starts to think that this time he's lost them for good. Then, certain day, in a town like any other, Derek is coming home from work when he finds out he has a new neighboor. Guess who?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is huge and it has the complete trifecta: fluff, smut and angst with a bonus of hurt/comfort. Enjoy!
> 
> P.S. This contains what could be viewed as slight domestic violence. Read the notes to know details.

The sun sets as Derek walks back to his apartment after a day of working at the local coffee shop. It has been eight years since his whole world crumbled. He has changed town, name and life thirteen times in those eight long years.

Every time he feels like he’s finally free, at least from the Argents, they find him again.

Approaching the apartment, Derek notices a man, who looks more like a teenager, embracing one of the boxes in is packed up jeep. He’s kind of scrawny and oddly familiar.

He picks up the rather large box. “Oh sweet merciful _fuck_!” He shouts to the heavens, his legs trembling precariously, his arms giving out and Derek couldn’t decide either to grunt from exasperation or laugh from amusement. Which was weird, the mere thought of laughing was rather unusual to him nowadays.

Derek does neither, and in less than a second, he’s holding the box, relieving the younger man’s of its weight and _oh fuck_ – it’s Stiles.

Stiles sighs from relief, brushing a hand through his buzz cut hair. “Thanks man.” He says, patting Derek on the shoulder before looking at him, before realizing who he is. Stiles’ mouth drops in mild shock, nonchalant and transparent as ever.

They stay there, quiet and still until Stiles finally manages to close his mouth, hiding his hands awkwardly in his pockets, changing his weight from one foot to the other, trying to look anywhere but Derek, and failing spectacularly.

Derek tightens his grip around the box, deciding that he hated this, he hated them acting like strangers, like Stiles wasn’t the person who knew him better than anyone and even him didn’t know about the darkness that Derek carried, about the dreams he sweeps under the bed, when the first ray of sunshine waves through the window.

“Where to?” He finally asks, breaking the silence and lifting the box up to meet Stiles' gaze.

“Oh, yeah, right.” Stiles babbled, like he had forgotten about the boxes altogether. “Third floor.” He makes an apologetic face. “Sorry. You can put it down if you want. This stupid building has no elevator. Can you believe it? We are in the freaking 21st century and whoever built this freaking apartment didn’t thought of add an elevator on an eight story building. What’s next? There’s no electricity or running water?...”

“The gas doesn’t work very well.” Derek admits as Stiles picks up a smaller box, following Derek to the apartment.

“See, I mean, it’s just ridiculous.” He shakes his head.

After the initial shock and nervousness were gone, Stiles was clearly back to his normal self. He just didn’t shut up, able to talk for hours about any given subject, like in every afternoon they’d met in the woods, where Derek listened attentively to Stiles’ every word, not wanting to miss a single word from the boy’s chatter. God, how he missed his voice, now slightly lower, due to puberty.

It was weird comparing that Stiles to the young man in front of him, all grown up. Full red lips, lean body, defined arms…

“Don’t worry.” Derek babbled, taking his mind away from Stiles and his stupid perfect lips and stupid body and his annoying (but not really) constant babbling. “I’m still as strong as ever, I can carry this to the third floor.”

“Show off.” He hears Stiles mutter under his breath and Derek can’t repress a smile.

Show off or not, in the time it took Stiles to carry two boxes, up the stairs and into the third floor, Derek carried all the others, locking the jeep and grabbing the keys.

He climbed back up the stairs and saw Stiles laying his box on the ground – the skin at the back of his neck shiny with sweat. It wasn’t attractive, _at all_.

Stiles turned to him and Derek handed him his keys.

“Thanks” Stiles smiled and Derek heard both of their heartbeats speed up when their fingers brushed off against each other.

So, Stiles still wasn’t indifferent to Derek either. Derek could smell both their arousal in the air. Now Derek felt it too.

Stiles blushed and quickly looked away, at the boxes lying on the ground. “How did you know where my door? I remember that you were the one leading, and you purposely placed them by the left side. Been hiding behind some trees, have we?” Stiles joked, hands dropping to his waist and Derek rolled his eyes, trying to look away from the pale skin exposed by the movement and even there Stiles as a mole or two. Derek never thought about it before but now he wonders to how far they go.

“I live next door.” Derek pointed out.

“Oh, right. That makes total sense. I guess. Actually, scratch that. No it doesn’t! What are the chances of meeting a neighbor in the middle of the street? What are the chances of my next door neighbor being the guy that found me crying in the woods ten years ago? Seriously Derek, none of this makes sense.” Stiles said.

Derek shrugged. “Nothing in my life has ever made sense.”

Stiles is taken aback by his answer, letting out a heavy sigh and turning around, opening the door to his apartment and picking up a small box up from the floor.

“I’ll help you with that.”

They carry all the boxes inside and when they’re done, Stiles smirks.

“I always knew you had super powers.” Stiles joked. “You just didn’t told me because it’s probably one of those things that if you told me, you’d have to kill me, am I right? Which is fine, I totally get it. If you killed me, you’d probably miss my witty commentaries and my charming company. Do you have heat vision too? Because the temperature in here just is definitely hotter than usual”

“I don’t have super powers.” Derek said between grinded teeth, growling. He turned away to leave and felt a hand behind him he knew would come. Stiles was still as loud when he was silent as when he was talking.

“Wait.” He says. “I’m sorry, Derek. I really am. No more death jokes. I’m sorry.” Stiles looked at Derek’s scowl with regretful eyes. He cleared his throat. “As you’ve clearly noticed, my mind to mouth filter is still nonexistent. Actually, I think it has become worse with age. You’d have to be blind not to notice, really. Or deaf, rather. That’s not the point. The point is that my nonexistent filter is painfully noticeable.” Stiles said, scratching his head.

Derek feels his muscles relax. “It’s okay, Stiles. There’s no problem. I just have to work tonight, so I better sleep while I can.” He clarifies.

“A night worker, hum?” Stiles babbled, shutting his mouth almost immediately.

Derek laughed and Stiles eyes lighten up.

“Bar. Friday to Saturday.” He informed, before Stiles had to say anything else, turning to leave. “Take your mind out of the gutter.”

“Then, dinner. Sunday. There’s this new show about fairytales. It’s not as cheesy as it might sound. I guess. I’ve only seen the trailer. The premiere is Sunday. And my mind is always in the gutter.” Stiles blurted out in a hurry.

Derek nodded and Stiles clapped his hands. “So, it’s a date. Well, not really! Definitely not a date. No, no, no. No date. Just a meeting between old friends.”

Derek smiled like he hadn’t in years. “See you Sunday, Stiles.” He said with a wave, closing the door to the hyperactive teenager’s apartment.

\---

Derek was nervous. He knew it was ridiculous. Derek and Stiles had spent countless days together, talking effortlessly for hours in each other’s company. Everything used to be so simple with Stiles. However, after taking one shower, brushing his teeth, putting on his best fitted jeans, a tight tank top that left little to the imagination and throwing a leather jacket on top to put it all together, he still felt uncharacteristically self-conscious.  

While panicking in front of the bathroom’s mirror, Derek kind of regretted not owning any cologne or air gel. He thought about shaving. But Kate loved when Derek was clean-shaved. She also loved whenever Derek used cologne or air gel, so Derek avoided all of it at all costs. Even thinking about it left him sick and filled with anger.

… And now he had a broken sink and water was sprinting out all over the bathroom.

Derek growled, hurrying out of the bathroom and calling his landlord – who yelled through the cell phone and called Derek countless names until Derek started to growl. Then the guy shut up and told him not to worry, that the sink would be fixed in no time, with no extra charges.

Then, he looked at the time – 7:13 pm – which was basically useless because they didn’t actually arrange any set time to meet up.

Derek knew, however, that Stiles was already home.

“Fuck it.” Derek muttered, leaving his apartment and walking across the hall until Stiles’ apartment, knocking.

Stiles ran towards the door, stumbling ( _fuck!)_ and falling hard on the floor. Derek grimaced at the loud thud, letting out a laugh before it was obvious Stiles was okay, jumping up almost instantly and opening the door.

When the door opened, Derek could smell Stiles’ and lust as clearly as he could see his warm, inviting smile.

There was no reason for Derek to feel self-conscious, Stiles liked him exactly how he was. But Derek quickly remembered that Stiles liked a lie.

Stiles mouth dropped when he saw Derek. “Oh my god.” He gagged. “You look… great. You look great, Derek.” He said, stopping to stare at every inch of Derek’s body, like he was some model in a fashion catalog. Derek smirked.

“I mean, hi Derek.”

“Miguel.” Derek clarified.

“What?” Stiles asked, lost in appreciating Derek’s body once again.

“My name.”

Stiles looked up at Derek with confusion but suddenly his expression brightened. “Oh, right. Okay.” He nodded. “Hi, Miguel. You know how awful I am with names. Anyway, come in.”

Derek smiled, stepping in and taking a closer look at Stiles. Although the younger man was dressed rather casually in some sweatpants and a comical muffin t-shirt that read stud, Derek found Stiles’ exposed arms, the moles on his face and his gentle cinnamon scent wildly attractive, like anything he had seen before.

“I hope I’m not too early or too late.”

“No, not at all! You are right on time, actually.” Stiles said, pointing then to a counter over-flowing with bags from a chinese take-out restaurant Derek walked by in his way from work, recognizing the smell of mustard and ginger. “I bought chinese, hope you don’t mind. Since I didn’t know your tastes, I bought a little of everything. Which was really expensive! This shit is expensive, it’s insane! If my father founds out, he’s going to kill me! Not that I’m complaining or asking you for money. Oh god, no, I invited you. You’re a guest in my house. I would hate if someone invited me to dine at their place and then asked me for money, like, total asshole move. In fact, you are forbidden of giving me as much as one cent!”

Derek tried to contain a laugh. “Are you sure? Because that _is_ a lot of food.”

“Yeah! Unless, you know, my body is found in a ditch somewhere, dried out and chopped into tiny pieces, devoured by hungry cats. In that case, I’ll come back to haunt your sour sorry ass forever.” Stiles promised.

Derek’s expression hardened and Stiles dropped his mouth. “Sorry. Death jokes.” Stiles makes a gagging motion. “Just fall out of my mouth, like everything else, really. It’s a gift or more like a curse.”

Stiles turned around, taking the food boxes out of bags, opening them and setting them on the table.

“Would you care to fetch me some glasses?” Stiles asked.

“What about cutlery?” Derek asked, smirking at Stiles’ unintentional joke.

 “I don’t need them.” Stiles said with a smug smile, tilting his head towards the chinese sticks.

“Then neither do I.” Derek answered and Stiles’ smile only became wider. “Would you care to tell me where the glasses are?”

“Nope.” Stiles said shaking his head.

Derek arched an eyebrow and snorted, taking on the challenge. Stiles looked at him, a stupid smile (but not really) in his face as he shouted him directions ( _Warm!_ _Cold!_ _Freezing! God, do you even have the slightest notion of object distribution in a kitchen?!_ )

After fifteen minutes of growling on Derek’s part and shouting and laughing of Stiles’, the table was overflowing with food boxes and they were sitting down, glasses filled with iced tea.

Derek ended up having to use cutlery because the chinese sticks were overly sensitive to his frustrated touch. Stiles laughed when the sticks broke and laughed even harder when Derek looked at him angrily.

When he gets to actually take food to his mouth and _eat it_ , it turns out chinese food was actually pretty good. Not that he gave it a better compliment than _It doesn’t suck._ To which Stiles snorted, unimpressed.

“So, Stiles, what do you do nowadays when you’re not bossing people around in your kitchen?” Derek asked.

“Well, right now I’m in college.” Stiles started. “And don’t laugh at me!” He warned. “But I dream of being a kindergarten teacher. They have an endless supply of unlimited energy, much like myself and don’t threat people like complete assholes.” Stiles said, showing his tongue off in a childish way and… he probably shouldn’t have find it or his tongue as hot as he did.

“So, you like kids?” Derek asked, distracting his head from the fact that he wanted to lick Stiles’ tongue, apparently. How canis lupus.

“Yup. I actually even babysat for a couple of years. I know it’s not quite the same, like there’s like a ton of more kids and you have to actually teach them stuff, and I don’t think learning how to make fart noises or spit very far are skills parents wants their skills to learn. Actually, probably, they’re not, but every year just made my love for kids grow stronger. And I don’t mean that in a creepy way. Anyway, carrying on. That’s an age where they are eager to learn, to know the world and are still rather innocent and you can still make an impact, you know? And I want that.” Stiles explained.

“Yeah, I just feel sorry for the poor kids that end up in your class.” Derek joked and a napkin hit him in the face.

“What about you, Derek?” Stiles asked. “Did you ever got to finish your degree? You know, after...”

Derek shakes his head. “No. I came to the conclusion that being a lawyer isn’t my cup of tea. I would end up wanting to rip the throats out of all the criminals. And I think that isn’t the sort of behavior a judge would approve.”

“Eh, no loss there, I always saw you more as an outdoors guy, living in some forest surrounded by animals, anyway.”

“Yeah. I’ve actually had a few different jobs related with animals like dog walking, a wolf refuge, in a pound and as a veterinary assistant. And I think that, since running around the woods with animals isn’t actually a job, one of those is probably something I would want to do permanently once things settle down.” Derek said, surprise with so at ease he felt.

Stiles nodded, smiling.

“Maybe you could even work in the Beacon Hills Wildlife reserve, like Mark, when things settle down.”

Derek felt tears cropping to his eyes, remembering his brother. “Maybe.”

They eventually finished eating and threw the empty boxes in the garbage. Stiles washed the dishes while Derek dried them off with a cloth, which they did pretty fast, they hadn’t dirtied much and were in front of the television right at eight o’clock.

For a show about fairytales, it was strangely good and the characters were all sort of complex and badass. Stiles, for what Derek could gather from his shouting at the TV ( _She’s the baby, I’m telling you!; The Queen is a freaking BAMF!; Don’t tell the creepy man her name! God, don’t they teach you anything in Fairytale School? I’m going to call you Dumb White from now on!; Told you she was the baby; They actually killed prince fucking charming?! This show has balls!; Oh, no, there he is, my mistake. Balls taken away from you then!)_ he liked it as well.

Then, when the episode was over, Stiles turned to Derek. “That was AWESOME!” He shouted, dissipating any doubts Derek had whatsoever.

“It wasn’t bad.” Derek answered, and was smacked with a pillow in a face.

“Don’t be like that, sourpants. You were totally on the edge of your seat the whole freaking hour. I might’ve been screaming externally, which is my normal setting, but I sensed lots of internal screaming and awe coming from you.” Stiles joked.

“If you say so.”

Stiles punched Derek, softly, in the arm and his hand lingered there, feeling Derek’s strong muscles. Their eyes met and Derek could hear Stiles’ heart _pounding_ in his chest, like it was standing right against Derek’s ears. The lust, combined with the feelings that came from countless afternoon hours effortlessly spent together and one fateful night where Stiles had brought him back flooded the space between them.

Though, Derek could also feel some doubt coming from Stiles.

Derek didn’t want Stiles to have doubts, not about this, not anymore.

Unfortunately, the door of the apartment opened and both of them jumped to opposite sides of the couch.

A guy carrying a couple of handbags entered. “Hi, Stiles.” He said, looking from his friend to Derek’s sudden angry expression and looking away, fearful. “I can’t believe you are watching that Revenge show.” He noted, after forcefully throwing the words out, his breathing heavy.

Stiles glanced at the TV, like he had forgotten it was even on. “We weren’t watching. I mean… Well, apparently we were. Never mind. Hi, Scott!”

Oh, it was Scott, Stiles’ childhood best friend. Stiles used to talk about him and Derek even heard him once, but this was the first time he actually saw him.

Derek tried to shake the images of a certain tanned, tangled hair and puppyish brown-eyed man found behind an alley somewhere. It had been a rather excessive trail of thought for someone he only suspected could be Stiles’ boyfriend. Maybe he was a little possessive.

“Yeah, whatever. You always said the same about General Hospital.” Scott threw back, laughing as he headed to what Derek presumed was his room, closing the door.

“Hey, Steve Burton is a good enough reason to watch anything.”

After that, Stiles looked back at Derek. “Oh, right. You’ve never actually met Scott before. Weird. Anyway, we share an apartment now. Our parents wanted us to go to different colleges to meet new people and spread our wings, but we wanted to be rommies. They got their way, though.” Stiles said with a chuckle. “Apparently he met this mysterious but beautiful girl while in a trip across the country. So he decided to post-pone his coming home date instead of helping me move in. Some friend, uh? Not that he had any obligation of helping me out, but that is what friends are for!”

“All those boxes were all yours?” Derek asked, slightly in shock.

“Yup. And don’t look so surprised. I have a lot of shit. All of it essential to my survival and well-being.” Derek eyes the consoles and pyramid of games standing by the television. “Don’t make that face! I would go nuts without all my consoles and games!”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Of course you would.”

“Actually, if it wasn’t for wii fit, I wouldn’t do any exercise. And the shooting games are essential to my mental stability.” Stiles said. “I like to pretend they are people I don’t like.” Stiles whispered with a wink.

Derek snorted sarcastically. “You should’ve teach me that technique sooner.”

Scott’s door opens before Stiles could say anything else. “I’m tired and I need to sleep, so shut up you two.” Scott warned. “Please.” He added, when he met Derek’s gaze, closing the door right away, still afraid of the older man.

Stiles chuckles, getting up and, once again, Derek felt the irrational urge to rip Scott’s head out. “I think Scott is afraid of you.” Stiles noted.

Derek retorted smiling just enough that it showed his fearful canines. Stiles nodded again, leading him to the door.

“Well, I’ll see you next week, _Miguel._ ” Stiles said, grimacing. “Next time, pick a better name.” He whispered and Derek rolled his eyes.

“’Until next week, _Stiles_.” Derek pressed because he wasn’t, in matter a fact, one to complain about other people’s names. “And that isn’t even your real one.”

Stiles stuck his tongue out childishly as Derek left the apartment and he would be lying if he said he wouldn’t be counting the minutes until next Sunday.

\---

Derek wakes up, wheezing, drenched in a pool of his own sweat, the smell of smoke, wolfsbane and burned flesh still present in the air – echoes of his dream. He tries to escape the instinct to carve his claws – they’re claws, Derek notices, ripping apart the bed sheets – into his flesh, to soothe out the pain.

He closes his eyes, taking long deep breathes, thinking of the time he went camping with his family, when he went on a hunting trip with Mark or when Laura made him wear a tux and be her escort to prom, because she had got tons of invites from ex-boyfriends wanting to take her and they really wouldn’t bother her if Derek was there.

But mostly, he thought of Stiles, of their afternoons together in the woods, of them playing baseball, hide and seek, of Stiles’ laugh that one time Derek carried him all over the forest on his back.

When Derek came back to himself, the claws were back to fingers and he heard the knock on the door – most probably the sound that had awaken him before the dream reached its inevitable conclusion.

Derek got up, knowing exactly who was on the other side, and walked towards the door, opening it up to see Stiles.

“Hi.” Stiles greeted, his eyes focused on his face, probably on the sweat dripping from his forehead and the black circles around his eyes. “You were crying.”

Derek takes his hands to his eyes and – yup, those are tears. Derek almost didn’t notice them among all the sweat – add red eyes to the mess he must look. He blinks, trying to shake them off. “It’s just sweat.” He shrugs.

“Derek.”

“Stiles.” He shoots back. “What do you want?” Derek asks, rubbing a hand through his face.

“I thought you could want some company, since, you know.” Stiles shrugs. “Never mind, it was stupid. I just thought since, we used to spend her anniversary together you’d want to spend theirs...” Stiles says, shaking his head and whatever you was going to say. “I should go.”

Before he turns to go back to his apartment, Derek opens the door all the way and goes back inside, sitting on the couch. Stiles stands there, motionless, for a while, before coming in and closing the door after him.

“Do you want me to make you something?” Stiles asks.

“Only have coffee.” Derek says, tired, closing his eyes and resting his head against the sofa. He would not be able to sleep anymore tonight – he knew it from past experience.

“Coffee it is.” Stiles said, moving around the kitchen and Derek could feel the ease of his movements, like this, Derek waking up from a bad dream and Stiles making him coffee, was normal, a routine, even.

Derek didn’t like to think about how things might’ve turned out. It hurts too much, because he had lost too much that he wouldn’t ever get back. But if Derek had tried harder to keep the boy that brighten his days in his life, if he had went to Stiles and not Kate, if he hadn’t killed Kate, with time things between them might’ve grown into something more. Maybe this could be his life, their life. Together.

Stiles places the cup of coffee in the center table and sits beside him in the couch.

“What happened to your sink?” Stiles asked.

Damn it, he had left the bathroom door open.

“Nerves.”

“Remind me to never get in your bad side then.” Stiles said, as a joke, immediately shutting his mouth with a click.

Derek snorted, picking the cup of coffee up from the table and taking a sip. They stayed in silence while drank the coffee, letting the back bitter liquid warm his empty interior, the tension eventually giving place to familiarity and ease.

When Derek finished the coffee, he rested his head against Stiles’ shoulder and smelled the younger man’s arousal. That was right, Derek was still in his pajama pants, completely shirtless. But Stiles merely placed one arm around Derek’s shoulder, yearning him closer until Derek was curled in Stiles’ lap.

Derek closed his eyes, inhaling Stiles’ smell, feeling safe and protected in the other man’s embrace.

Derek woke up the next morning, with the sound of a door closing off, laying alone on the couch, a blanket placed carefully over him and the smell of hot coffee filling the air.

It was the first time he was able to sleep after a nightmare.

\---

Derek and Stiles quickly fell into a confortable routine.

Scott never joined, calling it girly show, spending his nights chatting endlessly with Allison, the mysterious and allegedly beautiful girl he’d meet while roaming around the country, of who Scott talked about 24/7, driving Stiles insane.

They’d meet every Sunday night in Stiles shared apartment, order take out and watch Once Upon a Time. They also met during other days of the week, to drink coffee first thing in the morning ( _real coffee, Derek, not that black undrinkable thing you have in your apartment_ ), to play video games or watch movies, they’d also go out and Derek would take Stiles to all the little hidden places he had uncovered around town.

Then the hiatus came around, and so did finals and Derek found himself missing Stiles, unable to see him unless for the occasional _Hi, how are you doing?_ Stiles even stopped going to the coffee shop where Derek worked, like he did every day since they’d meet again and it was unnerving.

The whole situation was ridiculous, like they were complete strangers.

Derek missed Stiles’ warm body. His scent. The occasional, completely accidental and awkward brush of their skin and the following blushing. Stiles babbling and easiness. Stiles’ smile, the sound of his laugh and the constant movement, because Stiles was always moving, always active, shaking his leg, biting his lip, chewing on his nails or sleeves, beating his fingers against any surface. It was soothing.

Because Stiles was his anchor, but Stiles also made his heart beat like never before, made the blood pump hot through his veins whenever Derek arrived too soon and Stiles was dripping wet, with only a towel hanging precariously around his waist. Or how Derek’s eyes found themselves focusing on Stiles’ red lips, swollen from the constant biting, and wanted nothing but to take and claim.

Apparently, Stiles thought it was ridiculous too.

One Friday night, Derek heard him walk over to his door, waiting there for a (long) while, in which Derek pondered to simply open the door, before he knocked loudly and rapidly.

Derek immediately opened the door.

Stiles, halfway through the hallway already, turned around, biting at his knuckle, like a small child caught doing something nasty.

Derek stared at Stiles, the question obvious in his look. Stiles gagged on his knuckle and tilted his head to something under his feet.

Derek looked down only to found a paper folded in two laying on the floor. He rolled his eyes, picking it up and unfolding it with care. Derek took the piece of paper closer to his nose, smelling Stiles cinnamon scent, mixed with vanilla and a hint of mint.

_Hi ~~Derek~~ Miguel. It’s Stiles ~~, obviously, unless you meet someone else who would leave a paper at your front door and ran away like an idiotic coward afterwards. If you do, I pity you and I seriously advise getting new friends! If that’s even what we are...~~_

_Meet me in the address below. It has the date (today!) and the time (in an hour!). Don’t look up what it is! Just meet me there. I’ll explain everything there. Despite the fact that you will probably get the complete picture when you actually see the place._

_~~Don’t worry, I’m not a serial killer out to murder you and turn you into my latest victim. Ugh, I forgot you don’t like death jokes. You’re the one that looks like one, anyways. A serial killed, not a death joke. Ups, I did it again. And now I’m singing along with the Britney Spears’ song. Damn it, brain, focus!~~_

_I guess I’ll see you there, ~~Derek~~ Miguel. ~~If you don’t think I’m a complete and utter moron, which I am.~~_

 Derek was trying to fight off a chuckle, because he still felt a bit annoyed. Stiles’ brain/hand filter was even worse than his mouth one. He folded the paper, looking at Stiles.

“Where’s the place?” Derek asked, waving the paper.

Stiles sighed, coming in the apartment. Derek closed the door behind him.

“A gay bar.” Stiles said, turning to look at the older man, still standing by the door. “I like you. Like I like you, like you. Like I used to like Lydia, although I forgot about her the minute I met you and Lydia became nothing more than a scape goat for the feelings I harbored for you, although equally unobtainable.” Stiles shakes his head, brushing his hands through his buzz cut hair.

Derek had never seen it longer than that. _Ever_.

He wondered why. Maybe it had something to do with his mother’s death.

“I love you, Derek. I’ve loved you since I was eight years old and I had no clue what love even was. I still loved you the day your parents died, when I found you in the forest, but you just left. You left and I felt like crap and then we met again and I don’t know if you like me or not, because you keep sending me all these conflicting signs and I just I can’t handle it anymore.”

“You left me first.” Derek almost shouts, not wanting to sound as mad as he did, pointing an accusing finger at Stiles.

Stiles grunts, spinning around.

“I was a child.” Stiles was shouting too. “I was ten years old and I loved you and all I knew was that you were leaving me and it hurt. It hurt so much. Just like my mom left me, when she died, and I know it’s not the same and that I probably overreacted but I was just a kid. And don’t play the fucking victim, Derek, you made me believe I saved you from turning your life to shit but you went and fucking killed Kate anyway!” And now Stiles was crying and it was Derek’s fault. _Shit_.

“I had already killed her.” Derek muttered, suddenly taken aback.

“Oh.” Was Stiles only response, wiping away his tears in frustration.

“I was going to kill the others, too.” Derek said, stepping closer to Stiles, slowly and carefully. “You saved me from that.” Derek stopped only inches from Stiles. “From more pain and more regret.” He said, and it took so much to say so little.

Stiles looked at him and nodded.

“Can I?” Derek asked, lifting his arms up.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you dumbass, put your fucking arms around me already.”

Derek chuckled, hugging Stiles by the waist and pulling him closer against him, burying his face in Stiles’ neck and taking in his scent, leading him back to a happier place, as well as to the saddest and most painful day of his life, to his darkest moments and finally to the careless hours of sitting by a coach, discussing a silly tv show.

With Stiles, he was whole.

“I…” Derek sighed, almost crushed by the words, by the angst filled moment. He felt it, _love_ , but he couldn’t yet say it. Maybe he never would.

“I know.” Is Stiles’ only answer and Derek knows he’s smiling.

Derek breathes out, resting his forehead against Stiles’. He smells the spicy scent of lust and arousal coming from the younger man, from himself, filling the air around them, spreading across the entire room. Derek can’t resist but lay a soft kiss against Stiles’ lips, which quickly deepens, though, filled with the unspoken words and hungry desire of countless years.

 “I can smell it in you, but I need to ask. Do you really want to do this? I can wait.” Derek growled against Stiles parted lips, with thick voice and shallow breath. He felt Stiles’ heart yammering against his chest, faster with each beat, his dick twitching, hardening, against Derek’s thigh.

The truth was, none of them could really wait any longer.

Stiles response was lost though, in whatever hurricane was going through his head right now and Derek growled, and it sounded needier than Derek would ever admit. He pressed their bodies together, pinning Stiles hard against the door.

Thrusting forward and rubbing their dicks together through the fabric, Stiles’ mouth opened even more, in a perfect “o” and Derek brushed his teeth and tongue against Stiles’ neck, tasting his burning skin.

“I _want_ you.” Stiles was able to mutter in a shaken voice and Derek bit his neck.

Stiles whined from the pain of the bite. “ _Fuck_ , Derek.” And moaned when Derek kissed the bruise off of Stiles’ skin and repeated the process, climbing his neck with bites and open mouthed kisses.

He licked Stiles’ mouth, tasting him and grazed his tongue through Stiles’ lips, through his teeth and through his gums, pressing then their lips together, forceful and rude.

Stiles’ hands were all over Derek’s jacket as he took it off awkwardly. But Stiles was as awkward as he was laid back, a strange combination that just felt _right_. Derek put his arms down, passively letting Stiles take his leather jacket off while he kissed and bit the younger man’s lips, the jacket falling on the ground.

Derek then grabbed Stiles’ hips as he lifted him up, forcing the younger man to curl his legs around Derek’s waist, his hands all over Derek’s back, pushing them closer together, feeling his muscles through the fabric of the tank top. Putting his hands under the fabric and felling Derek’s hot muscled skin beneath his own.

Derek slid is hand through Stiles’ jeans, pressing them against his thighs, which made Stiles’ moan into his mouth and wondered across Stiles’ skin to press his hand against Stiles’ ass, supporting his weight while he carried Stiles to the bedroom, trading wet kisses along the way.

Inside the room, Derek dropped Stiles down on the bed, hopping in right away and approaching Stiles slowly, predatorily.

He ran his hands through Stiles shoes, taking them off one by one, rubbing his hands through Stiles’ jeans and, even though the fabric, Derek could feel Stiles’ skin shivering, his body hair bristling underneath his touch.

Derek start to unbutton Stiles’ jeans, slowly, pressing his hand against the other man’s crotch, feeling the length of his cock, Stiles thrusting up, pressing his dick harder against Derek’s touch.

“Hurry up.” Stiles whined through shallow breath. “Imagine I’m a lonely little present laying alone by the Christmas’ tree on Christmas’ eve. Imagine you’re a spoiled kid that can never get enough. Just _unwrap_ me like you _don’t_ care.”

Derek’s expression went blank as he froze, in the middle of pushing Stiles’ jeans off. Christmas was something that reminded him of things that were better left forgotten. But so did Stiles. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life running. He had done enough of that already.

Derek’s eyes met Stiles’ who made an apologetic face. “Sorry, mood killer.”

Derek growled softly, he wasn’t really angry, just momentarily taken aback.

He rolled his eyes and smirked as he yanked Stiles’ jeans off, sending them flying to a corner of the room, along with his boxers, with enough force that made Stiles jump from the bed, shouting in surprise, and landing in a slightly uncomfortable position.

“Way to be gentle, dumbass!” Stiles complained and Derek just chuckled.

“Well, I _unwrapped_ you.” Derek said, wrapping his hands around Stiles’ legs and pushing Stiles closer, stroking Stiles dick as he bended down, taking it into his mouth and closing his lips around Stiles’ hard cock, licking his head with a wet, soft tongue.

Stiles moaned and arched his hips up, pushing his dick farther into Derek’s mouth and then pulling back, fucking his mouth.

Faster and faster.

Until Derek left Stiles’ cock leaking with pre-cum.

Stiles whined. “Please, Derek, I’m so close.”

“And apparently I have another present to unwrap.” Derek whispered against Stiles’ dick which took another whine from the other man’s mouth, taking it all in and then letting go, which was all that was needed before he felt a convulsion go through Stiles’ body.

“Oh, _fuck_ , Derek. I’m cumming.”

Derek lifted Stiles’ shirt as Stiles came all over his belly, Derek’s hand guiding him through the orgasm, Stiles reduced to nothing more than panting moans.

“Fuck.” He let out again, pleased and breathless, enjoying his afterglow.

Derek removed Stiles’ plaid and then his shirt, sniffing the come for a second, taking in the intensity of Stiles’ smell, rubbing a hand all through Stiles’ belly, making an even bigger mess of cum, spreading it all over Stiles’ body, taking one of the cum filled hands and leading it to Stiles’ face, rubbing it against his cheeks and brushing it against his mouth.

 _“Fuck_.” Stiles muttered, taking his tongue off to lick at Derek’s hand, tasting himself.

Derek smirked, leaning forward and licking Stiles’ face, slowly and messily, where he’d previously rubbed in cum, leaving gob everywhere. He kissed Stiles afterwards, feeling the taste of cum in both of their tongues.

Derek then kissed his chin, his neck, travelling down to his nipples, taking his time there, licking and nibbling, leaving them red and hard. When he’s satisfied with his work at Stiles’ nipples, Derek leaves a trail of kisses down Stiles’ chest till his happy trail, holding his hips, tilting his ass up and rubbing a careful finger around Stiles’ asshole.

Stiles moans.

“Just _fuck_ , Derek! C’mon, _fuck_ me!” Stiles pleaded, his voice wrecked, thrusting his ass further into Derek’s finger.

Derek holds tight at Stiles’ grip, steading him, looking up at Stiles and raising a brow. “This is your first time, Stiles. I’m not a…” He shook his head. Well, he kind of was a monster, but that was beside the point. “The thing is, I want you to get a little more from this than excruciating pain.”

Stiles looked up at the ceiling and growled.

“Are you mimicking me?” Derek asked, slightly amused, holding back a chuckle.

Stiles grimaced. “Yeah. I know, it was pathetic. Let’s never do that again. It felt more like a whimper – like I was begging, really. Which I kind of was, but that’s not the point. The point is, it didn’t do wonders to my poor self-esteem. Let’s forget I ever did that sound. It was behind pathetic.”

Derek leaned forward, placing a hand around Stiles’ head, brushing his fingers through his buzz cut and pressing him forward, smashing his lips against Stiles’, shutting him up effectively. “Nothing you do is pathetic.” He muttered and Stiles hummed contently, rubbing his hands through Derek’s chest as he sit back up.

Derek slid a finger into Stiles’ ass, seeing as Stiles moaned and couldn’t resist to thrust forward just the slightest, trying to take more of the feeling of Derek’s finger twisting and turning inside him.

Derek bent down and started licking around his hole.

After a while, Derek found a spot that made Stiles arch up and release a deep high moan. Derek started to finger him faster and harder there, adding a second finger in, and then a third, twisting and scissoring his fingers inside Stiles, delighting himself in the obscene noises Stiles was making, all for him, _because_ of him.

Derek took his time with Stiles, exploring his ass, licking it, making up new positions with his fingers and watch Stiles’ reaction, memorizing what movement led to what sound, leaving Stiles’ ass all wet and open after hearing Stiles moan in five hundred different tones.

When Derek removed his fingers from inside Stiles’, he initially complained until he saw Derek unbuttoning his own pants and taking them off. Derek saw Stiles’ eyes widen when he freed his dick, his mouth falling.

Derek smirked, lifting Stiles up and laying him on his lap, Derek’s dick pressing against Stiles’ butt cheek.

Derek licked one drop of sweat dripping down Stiles’ forehead. Then he kissed Stiles, running a hand up his back and brushing another through his buzz cut, moving forward and pinning Stiles against the bed’s wood work.

When Stiles’ back hit the wood work, Derek broke the kiss, burying his nose in Stiles’ neck, taking in his scent, now with hints of salt, cum and Derek’s own scent.

 “Final warning.” He muttered, panting.

Stiles cupped Derek’s face and smashed his lips against Derek’s, kissing him roughly. Actions and smell spoke louder than words, even if Stiles was a pretty loud talker, the message was crystal clear. _Yes, dumbass, I want you._ Derek could almost hear him.

Derek broke the kiss, pulling Stiles’ lips as he searched the night stand for some lube and a condom. Stiles let out a unpleased grunt and before he could complain even further, Derek pin him against the wood work once again with just one hand. Stiles groaned in surprise, looking at Derek as he was biting off the condom’s casing.

“Oh, right, safety first.” Stiles babbled.

Derek smirks as he put the condom around the length of his cock and leaned down, biting Stiles’ butt cheek and brushing his tongue inside his butt one last time before lifting up Stiles a bit before entering him, slowly. Very slowly. Because Stiles screamed.

They eventually got to an understanding. Stiles’ nodded once for him to continue and punched his chest with what Derek supposed was meant to be brutal force when Stiles wanted him to stop – his panting and moaning a constant throughout the process.

After a while, Derek was finally inside him and Stiles’ head, sweaty (all of him was sweaty), laid down against Derek’s shoulder. Derek was really still, scared of hurting Stiles. “Are you okay?” Derek asked – worry filling his voice.

Stiles whined when Derek’s word rumbled through his body against Stiles’ _._

“Peachy. It’s not like I have a humongous _thing_ stuck up my ass that moves at your slightest contraction.” Stiles mutters, breathing in because talking was not a good idea. “I’m okay. I just need some time. Time to adapt. Time to lay down and die.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Just don’t fall asleep on me or I’ll feel even worse.” Derek whispers in a half serious, half mocking voice.

“Don’t mock me!” Stiles says with a thrust towards Derek, which releases a moan.

Derek thrusts back, instinctively and Stiles moaned again, this time with pleasure, although there was a still a little pain. Derek could feel it.

Derek’s tightens his grip on Stiles thighs, steading him, now both of them completely drenched in sweat, looking at Stiles and the younger man nodded.

That was all the confirmation Derek needed before thrusting again.

“Oh, _fuck_!” Stiles shouted, his grip around Derek’s neck and back tightening.

Stiles’ dick was hard again, ready for round two and Derek started to thrust faster and faster, harder and harder, taking his dick almost entirely out of Stiles’ ass, only leaving the head in, and then thrusting forward, his balls hitting against Stiles’ hole, their legs splashing together in a rather noisy way.

Stiles’ noises became more and more deep, more constant. Derek was grunting too, his voice thick and deep as Derek slid one hand to Stiles throat, burying his head there and biting at Stiles’ neck, forming new bruises and licking the old owns. 

Their bodies were so close together as Derek just fucked Stiles.

Their mouths found each other as they traded a sloppy kiss.

“You’re so tight Stiles.” Derek groaned.

“It’s my first time you idiotic moron. And it’s not like I’ve been putting lamps in there just to make it wider for when rude and inattentive sour wannabe male models came to fuck me.” Stiles said, kissing (which was more like licking) Derek’s mouth and the other man bit him jokingly, making Stiles let out a moan, muffled by Derek locking their lips again.

“You’re a little control freak with a childish need to be always on top, you know that, right?” Stiles asked through a kiss, panting.

“So I’ve been told by barely adult hyperactive guys, which have no mouth to brain filter or the ability to shut up.” Derek retorted and thrusted harder into Stiles. He was quite enjoying it when Stiles’ only noises were groans and whimpers. He wanted them back.

“Such a child.” Stiles stutters through moans, thrusting back, for good measure. 

After a while of thrusting back and forth, Derek fastened his rhythm, the bed rocking against the wall, and when he felt like he was dangerously close, Derek growled and took himself out of Stiles, cumming with just a stroke at his own cock, scattering cum all over Stiles’ belly.

Stiles’ went for his cock too, and it only needed a slight touch before both of them were panting and moaning form their orgasms, and for Stiles chest to be full with both of their cum.

“Fuck.” Stiles moaned, throwing his head back.

\---

Derek woke up to Stiles’ embraced around his arms, his head resting between the spot where Stiles’ neck met his shoulder, their naked bodies still pressed tightly against each other. Derek lightly squeezed Stiles, taking in his scent and they both moaned happily.

“Good morning, Derek.” Stiles said sleepily, arching his head back to take a better look at Derek, patting him on the back.

“Good morning, Stiles.” Derek said, laying gentle kisses on Stiles’ moles, tracing the rest of his moles with his fingers, all across his body.

Derek started to mouth at Stiles’ fresh bruises, brushing his hand up and down Stiles’ tights. The younger man shifted, turning to face Derek, who pulled Stiles closer against his body.

Stiles cupped Derek’s face, brushing his hands through Derek’s stubble, leaning closer to kiss him. They laid lazily in bed, trading sloppy kisses.

Eventually, Derek persuades Stiles to take a shower, alluring him out of bed with the promise of morning sex. They both take advantage of the situation to slowly explore the other’s body, and by the time when the soap was finally washed away by the hot steaming water, both of their dicks were big and hard.

They rub them together for a while, until Derek turns Stiles around, thrusting his dick into Stiles’ ass, their moaning and panting being muffled out by the noise of running water. Derek thrusted again, smirking as he heard Stiles letting out a deep moan, but then he coughed, rather violently.

Derek stopped.

“Are you okay?” He asked, tapping on Stiles’ arm when he got no answer, worried.

Stiles tilted his head backwards. “What?” He shouted, though barely audible through the stream of water.

Gladly Derek has a sensible ear.

“I asked you if you’re okay.” Derek asked.

Stiles looked at him blankly.

“You coughed…” Derek clarifies.

Stiles let out a sarcastic laugh. “You were _fucking_ me under a stream of running water, you moron! My mouth opens and water comes in! Of course I coughed. You’re lucky I didn’t choke on it and died! Whose brilliant idea was it to have me face this side, anyway?”

Derek rolled his eyes and before Stiles had any more time to complain, he manhandles him against the other side, pinning him against the wall.

Stiles grunts.

“Better?” Derek muttered with sharp voice into Stiles’ ear.

“Yeah, I’m much better. Thank you for being so careful.” Stiles says, sarcasm filling his voice.

“You’re unbelievable.” Derek says, rolling his eyes and letting a smirk form in his lips.

“So I’ve been told. But you put up with me, so I guess you don’t mind. Better yet, I bet you like me _because_ of my annoyance, wittiness and general awesomeness.” Stiles said.

Derek released a loud breath against Stiles’ skin. “I guess I do.” He let out and felt Stiles’ heart start to bit faster. Derek brushed his teeth against Stiles’ neck, lingering between kissing or biting his skin, enjoying the feeling of Stiles’ skin shivering under his canine, settling for a kiss.

“You’re such a sap.” Stiles says.

Derek rocks into Stiles, nibbling at his ear and hearing Stiles letting out a long moan, rubbing one hand against his thigh and then grabbing his dick, starting to stroke it hard and fast. Derek pulls out of Stiles and thrusts back again. Stiles, still pinned against the wall, thrusts back towards Derek with a whimper.

It’s a thing they do.

\---

Eventually they get out of the shower, Stiles sitting back on the bed, with only a towel around his waist, following Derek with his eyes while Derek  takes a pair of pants from the drawers, struggling a bit to get into them. Stupid tight pants.

“So, that is why you’re always with a sour face.”

Derek hears Stiles laughing and throws him a warning look, arching an eyebrow which only makes Stiles laugh harder.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles says, still laughing.

Derek rolls his eyes, sitting on the bed next to Stiles while putting on some socks and tying his shoelaces.

Derek feels Stiles’ fingers trailing across his back, delineating Derek’s triskelion tattoo and, his skin shivering beneath the other man’s touch.

He looked at Stiles and the younger man was wearing a smug smile.

“What does your tattoo mean?” Stiles asks.

“It’s a triskelion.” He says, receiving nothing but a blank stare. Derek sighs. “Each spiral represents a different part of a triplet. To my family, it meant alpha, beta and omega. To some, it means past, present and future. Or even father, mother and son.” Derek explains.

“What does it mean to you?”

Derek takes a deep breath.

“Each spiral symbolizes a different part of me.” He says while Stiles starts to follow the lines of one of the spirals. “That one symbolizes the pain, sorrow and guilt I felt when my family died.” _The burned house._

Stiles takes a deep breath. “Guilt?” He asks, confused.

Derek brushes the palms of his hands against his face, shaking his head. Stiles’ knew there was something different in Derek. He’d always known. But what exactly was still a mystery to the younger man. Stiles didn’t know he was a werewolf and, truthfully, Derek could only handle an emotional revelation per day.

Stiles sighed, giving up for now, his fingers moving to circle another spiral.

“That one represents the fury and anger I felt when I realized Kate had killed them.” _The wolf._ Stiles’ fingers dance through Derek’s skin until they get to the top spiral. Derek smiles widely. “The last spiral symbolizes hope. It is there as a reminder that even in the darkest of hours, there is this subtle glimpse of light.”

Derek looks at Stiles, into those sweet brown eyes, those full parted lips. He inhales, filling his lungs with the smell of cinnamon, vanilla, mint and a hint of the spicy scent of arousal, couple with Derek’s scent. He can also feel Stiles’ heart beat speeding up, his blood rushing faster through his fingers as they walked through his skin, towards Derek’s neck.

“It’s you, Stiles. Every time I was feeling like there was nothing else for me, when the pain got so unbearable I just wanted to end it all, the boy in the woods was always there, bringing me back to the surface, _finding_ me.”

Stiles’ fingers brushed through Derek’s still wet hair, leaning forward and kissing away the tears he didn’t felt falling from his eyes.

“I seem to remember you doing all the finding.” Stiles whispered.

Derek rolled his eyes. “That’s debatable.”

Stiles’ then cupped Derek’s face into his hands. “I’m here with you now, Derek. I won’t be leaving you again.” He said, kissing Derek who let out a growl inside the younger man’s mouth, yanking the towel away and pulling Stiles on top of him and holding him, steady, by his thighs.

Stiles’ grip on Derek’s hair and back tightened, pressing them closer as the kiss deepened. As the kisses got more rough and urgent, Stiles rocked his hips against Derek’s, who grunted while the younger man moaned.

“I have to go to work and you have college.” Derek muttered, breathless, between kisses, loosening his grip on Stiles’ thighs.

Stiles sighed, getting off of Derek.

Derek got up from the bed, putting on a black henley.

“What are you having for breakfast?” Stiles asked. “I’m kind of hungry for more than hot wild sex.” He added with a smirk.

“Oh.” Derek said. “I usually have breakfast at the coffee shop I work in, so I don’t have much stuff at home.”

Stiles pouted.

“I’ll go buy something for us to eat.” Derek said.

“Are you sure? I mean, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse, and I’m not even kidding, I mean that in a literal sense. Apparently, sex makes me really hungry. Who knew? Not me. So, I might be hungry, really hungry, but you don’t need to go buy me food. I don’t want to be a pain in your ass. I mean that figuratively, I would love to fuck you. Hum, sorry, not the point.” Stile said, biting at the towel he had caught between his fingers.

“No problem. And you would be a pleasant pain in my ass, Stiles.” Derek said with a smile, laying his hands on Stiles hips and bringing him closer while the younger man held his breath. “I would love to have breakfast with you.”

Derek leaned into a soft kiss.

“Now I’m going shopping.” He said, leaving Stiles, picking up his sunglasses and walking towards the door.

“And I’m gonna jack off all over your bathroom.” Stiles said.

“Stiles.” Derek warned with a growl, closing the door behind him.

\---

Derek was half running down the street to the nearest convenience store when he stopped dead on his tracks. The roar of a motor and the sound of wheels running through the asphalt was everything he could hear as his heartbeat skyrocketed, the blood rushing fast through his veins.

Derek instinctively turn to hide among the shadows of the nearest alleyway, still unsure of what the danger actually was until he saw them.

They were in a black van with tainted windows but the driver’s one was open, revealing Chris Argent and another hunter he’d never seen before. 

 _No_!

They couldn’t be back, not now, not when he and Stiles were starting to build something, together. That morning when he woke up next to Stiles, to his scent and his heat, for the first time since the fire he felt like home.

After the shower, he had opened himself up to Stiles more than he ever did with anyone else.

And now the hunters were back and all Derek wanted was to tell Stiles everything, because he knew Stiles would leave everything behind for him, to be _with_ him. And that was exactly why Derek couldn’t ask him. He didn’t want this life to become Stiles’ – leaving everyone he ever knew and loved, hopping from town to town, never staying anywhere too long – the dark cloud of the hunters always hovering above them.

Derek couldn’t handle Stiles waking up one day and regret that decision, regret Derek, slowly starting to hate him for destroying and ruining his life.

He couldn’t handle anymore guilt.

So Derek waited until the van disappeared to get out of the alley. There was no point going to the convenience store now. His fairytale was over. He had been fooling himself with Stiles. It was time to wake up.

So Derek turned around and went back to the apartment, certain of what had to be done.

Thought, that didn’t meant it didn’t kill him.

\---

Derek opened the door and found Stiles lying lazily on the couch, slowly rocking his knees together and tapping his fingers against the center table and the movement might be slow, but it was still there. It was always there. Always had been, Derek remembers as he finds himself being taken back to the countless afternoons he spent with an always talking, never stopping, never resting Stiles. Even during the night, Stiles had been twisting and turning uninterruptedly in his arms.

Derek felt a lump in his throat and a weight taking rest in his chest as he closed the door loudly, waking Stiles from his drowsy state, who jumped on the couch and looked at Derek, breathing out of relief.

“Derek, you scared me.” Stiles says. “You know, if you want to kill me, there are better ways. Oh, sorry. They kind of come naturally. Wait…” Stiles stops, his smile fading from his lips, his eyes attentive as he looks better at Derek, as his brain gears move, as he spots every detail closely. “You were already wearing that mug when you came in.” His eyes look down, probably noticing the lack of groceries and back up again. “What happened, Derek?”

As Stiles approached him and Derek closed his eyes, letting his claws and teeth come out. When he opened his eyes again, they were blood red and Stiles had stopped, looking at him, unsure.

“So… you’re a werewolf. I’ve seen your eyes before, you know. If this was supposed to be some big revelation and something you thought I would leave you because, let me just assure you that I’m not impressed. I mean, it could be worse. You could’ve a knot…”

Whatever Stiles was about to say next, it was smothered by Derek’s growl and whatever words Stiles was still babbling through the noise were punched out of him when Derek, not too gently, gripped a fist into the younger man’s shirt and slammed him against the wall.

“Everything is a joke to you, isn’t it?” Derek muttered into his ear and his voice was as threatening as he could muster while trying to push the pain he felt for doing this to Stiles, his anchor and the one person that, despite not needing to, trusted him above everything else, probably more than he should, away. “I’m a monster, Stiles. An abomination. I could kill you right now.” He said, his sharp teeth brushing against Stiles’ neck.

Stiles laughed, sarcastic, despite the fear Derek could smell in him and the heart pounding hard and fast in his chest.

“I’ve known you since I was eight, Derek. That’s ten years. Please, don’t insult me feeding me lies. I know you could never kill me. And you’re not a monster, you’re not an abomination. If there is anyone in this story that is one is her. It’s Kate, Derek.”

“Shut up!” Derek shouted as he unclenched his fist from Stiles’ shirt and brought it up to grasp at his neck, tightening his grip around it and pulling Stiles upwards, feeling the tears at the back of his eyes as Stiles started to choke, as he went to plan B. He never really thought what he was would scare Stiles away. He had seen his eyes before, knew Derek was a killer and, somehow, nothing of that seemed to matter.

Derek wished he wouldn’t have to resort to plan B, but he had no illusions about Plan’s A destined failure.

“I never loved you.” He muttered into Stiles’ ear. “This was just sex and, you know what? Why keep up the charade. You’re just an hyperactive brat with no mouth filter that was a pain in my ass for years. The least I could do was get something out of you. And I did it, so just leave.” Derek said, letting Stiles’ feet touch the floor, but still gripping tight at his throat, trying to manage a grin.

Stiles’ expression hardened and he yanked Derek’s arm away, only being able to do it because Derek was so surprised that there was no fear or even hurt intoxicating Stiles’ smell, only anger.

“FUCK YOU!” Stiles shouted, shaking his head, rubbing his hands against his buzz cut and trying to keep his breathing stable. “I don’t know why you are doing this, maybe you think you don’t deserve something good in your life, something you like or care about, but you do, Derek.” Stiles is crying and is in pain, but he’s hurting _for_ Derek and he can’t handle it, can’t handle this anymore.

Derek punched the wall right beside Stiles, forming a fist shaped hole.

“LEAVE!” Derek shouted, convening a growl in the end, for good measure.

“FINE!” Stiles shouted back, bypassing Derek and walking towards the door, yanking it open. “Call me when you’re not feeling like a bitch anymore.” He said and the insult was clear in his voice. Then, when he’s about to close the door, that seemed like would go out with a bang, he stops.

“I love you.” He whispers, in a tone that no normal human being would be able to listen, but Derek is not normal. Stiles knows that, he has known this for a very long time. Then, he closes the door softly and Derek turns back, letting himself fall on the ground, let the tears stream.

His life had been destroyed, burned to the ground, again. This time he had no one else to blame but himself. Derek howled for the loss of Stiles, his anchor – for both the boy in the woods that had gotten under the wire and into his life and for the man that had flown right back into it, like be belonged, like he had never left.

Some werewolves mated at first sight.

Stiles and Derek had grown to be mates, or perhaps partners would be a more suited word. And somehow he thought that building something with someone just for it to get ripped away hurt even more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always end these things at a perfect time, don't I? Also, there will be no time jumps between this chapter and the next. Take from that what you will.
> 
> P.S. Derek shoves Stiles into a wall and threatens him. This is inserted into a context but if you think that is unacceptable behaviour, no matter the context, you've been warned!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard is a very crazy old men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter took forever and I'm not that happy with it, but it's done! Yeyy!

Derek pushes the building’s door wide open, pressing his leather jack tighter against his body to protect him from the night’s cold.

There were some places that, when the time came, Derek just packed his things and moved away. No warnings to the places where he’d worked or the landlord of the house he’d been staying. However, this time was different.

The old lady that owned the coffee shop where he worked during week days had always been nice to him, despite Derek’s permanent scowl and occasional rudeness towards the customers. She simply laughed it off with a shrug.

One time, when she finally cracked a smile out of him, she told him Derek reminded her of her late husband. “A hard nut to crack open, but a mellow heart on the inside” she’d said and it felt like something Stiles would say.

Derek grimaced at that, but from then on, he at least tried, though he wasn’t that successful, to be a little bit nicer to the customers. Well, he at least stopped giving them death stares and that was progress.

In the night club, there was also this girl, another bartender that worked with Derek and, like everyone else, she had tried to flirt with him once. It was something he had grown accustomed too, though he had rejected all invitations since that one time. Normally people got a bit resented afterwards, but not her. She just laughed it out, like it was something she had said just to give it a shot, not really thinking she would succeed and she covered for him whenever there was a full moon, no questions asked, always teasing him when guys and girls alike handed him napkins with their phone numbers written on.

Derek was sure they probably were like that to anyone, but people were rarely nice to him, not that he ever made it easy. So, although they never asked anything in return, Derek thought he owed them something. At least a goodbye.

He was thinking about how he didn’t have the goodbye he wanted from Stiles, but he at least hoped the younger man would move on – which was one of the reasons he even went back to the apartment after he spotted the Argents. He didn’t want Stiles to wait for him. His bubble had been burst. There was no happy ending for Derek and Stiles. Derek would always be on the run. But there could be a happy ending for Stiles and someone else because Stiles deserved, more than anything, to be happy. No matter how the much he wanted to grab Stiles and take him away, not letting anyone touch his blushed dotted skin ever again.

He was thinking about Stiles’ skin when he got up to his floor and found Scott, asleep but his expression wearing a certain worriedness nonetheless, leaning with his back across Derek’s door.

_What the hell?_

There was no reason for Scott to be asleep on his door, his scent filled with worry and anger, unless he thought Derek had done something to Stiles, something more than a break-up.

Suddenly, Derek’s senses became hyper aware, his wolf took charge, discerning Stiles’ scent amongst the miscellaneous of smells crowing the air, his cinnamon, vanilla and mint scent mixed with something else, with surprise and fear, distress, cold sweat and chloroform, as well as the smell of two men unfamiliar to the building, that had a distinctive wolfsbane, dry blood and smoke scent, the type that grew with years of exposure until it infiltrated itself into the skin and became a part of the person’s smell.

Derek could picture the scene in his head. When Stiles was leaving his apartment, he’s faced with two hunters that probably threatened him. There was a struggle, but the hunters managed to knock him out and taking him with them.

Derek was about to leave, following the smell, when his phone started to ring, an unfamiliar pop tune that Stiles had probably inserted into the cell when Derek left to get breakfast. The simple thought felt like a punch to his guts and Derek grabbed the cell instantly, fearing that morning had been the last time he heard Stiles’ laughter.

“ _You_!” Scott shouted, waking up due to the ring tone.

Derek wasn’t listening to Scott anymore, though, his eyes focused in the ‘anonymous’ blinking and flashing in the caller ID. Derek knew very well who was on the other side of that call.

“What did you do to him?” Scott insisted, growing madder.

Derek answered the call, continuing to ignore Scott. “If you hurt him, I swear to god, I will kill you.” Derek said in a threatening voice, but all he hears from the other side is laughter. Derek growls. “I _will_ find you and I will break both your legs, so you can’t run away and then I’ll take my time with you until you wish you weren’t even born.” He mutters, feeling his body shaking with anger.

Scott is now standing very still at his side, like a statue with wide eyes, irradiating fear, shock and confusion. Derek could care less about Scott right now. His cover was blown. Stiles was in danger. Everything else could go to hell.

“Well, well, this only makes everything sweeter.” The man says, with a deranged calmness to his voice. “To be fair, I thought the boy was just a fling. Actually, I was _hoping_ you cared enough about him to make a trade. I’d let him go and we would have a little showdown. But now I’ve changed my mind.” The man laughs again and Derek closes his eyes.

 _Damn._ He had ruined everything by being impulsive.

“I think we’re going to torture him slowly, tape it all. His screams, his cries, his pleads for mercy – a mercy that won’t come, a mercy that you didn’t show my daughter.” A shout escapes Gerard lips and he stops, taking a deep breath to control himself.

“Like the mercy she showed my family?” Derek says and he’s voice is all but controlled. It’s full of hate. Hate towards Kate, hate towards the hunters, towards this stupid war and stupid prejudices, towards himself.

Gerard laughs again, like the mad man he is. “You really know nothing, do you? I mean, how could you? My little daughter’s plan was a complete failure.” The old man says, disappointment clouding his tone.

“What do you mean?” Derek asks, confused.

“Oh, she might’ve known nothing about mercy, but she certainly knew a lot about love. Why did you think she choose a day you were out of town to burn your entire family into the ground while they slept?” Derek held his breath. He didn’t want to hear any of this. He didn’t care about whatever tainted and sick notion of love Gerard had, or the one Kate might’ve felt for him. But somehow, he couldn’t make himself speak a single word or move a single inch. “She loved you and she probably had the romantic notion that, once she’d told you about your family’s faith, you two would run way together. I mean, it’s not like you guys were all that social, and the bodies were in pretty bad shape. Probably the police would charge you as dead as well. But her plans didn’t count on the sheriff’s son remembering you and knowing you were out of town. So, you found out sooner that she expected and surprised her and, well, you know the rest.” Gerard finished you a disgusting click of his tongue. “What relation did you had with the Stilinski boy, anyway?”

Derek felt tears running down his face. Stiles had saved him from a life with Kate, a lie with Kate. Of kissing her and trusting her, of making love to the woman, the monster that had killed his entire family.

“One that doesn’t concern you.” Derek answers, a bit surprised Gerard didn’t know who the man he had caught was. Probably he didn’t thought it was all that important.

“Fair enough.” Gerard says and Derek can hear the hint of a smirk in the crazy old man’s voice. “You’re going to regret ever taking me the pleasure of killing my own daughter though.”

Derek freezes. There are few things in his life that, after so many years, are able to leave Derek speechless, shocked and confused and suddenly wandering if the world is a darker place than even he, with all he has been through, imagines. “ _What?_ ” Is the only answer he can muster.

Gerard laughs again, a dark, sarcastic and cruel laugh. “Oh, Derek. Do you really think I would’ve let my daughter spare a filthy werewolf? She was trying to hide that she was the culprit for the fire from you as much as she was trying to hide that she had left one of you alive from me. Our deal had been that, if she killed all of you, I could forgive her for ever dating an abomination like you. Thank god for nosy kids, right? I mean, if you hadn’t robbed me from the pleasure of killing her with my bare hands, I certainly would’ve had all the pleasure.”

Gerard _was_ a monster.

“You’re sick.” Derek throws, through bared teeth.

Gerard snarls. “Look who’s talking, at least I’m human.” He says and, for the first time, Derek saw what Stiles had tried to tell him that morning. That, despite being a werewolf, a freak of nature, he was more human than Gerard could ever dream to be. “Well, this little chat was rather pleasant, but I have a little torturing to do.” Gerard says, amused and Derek can hear a muffled _now_ before he’s hearing a shirt being ripped and Stiles complaining, being his usual sarcastic and saucy self.

“He’s a feisty one.”

Derek hears the whistle of a whip cutting through the air, hitting what could only be flesh by the scream that Stiles’ released, a scream filled with pain that got more and more intense with each quick blow and Derek only had the time to ear “You got a screamer.” before crushing the cell in his fist.

“Who was that? What’s going on? Where’s Stiles? What did you do to him?” Scott asks, his voice getting louder and more frantic with each question.

Derek ignores him. He tries to focus on the scent of the hunters, hoping it’s not too late, that the scent outside of the building hasn’t faded. Derek’s about to go down the stairs when a hand pushes him back and forces him to turn.

“Don’t you turn your back on me!” Scott shouts and before Derek realizes it, he’s pushing Scott into a wall, pinning him there and hearing a slight whine of pain.

“There’s nothing you can do! So just go back to worry about your little crush and let this to the men.” Derek said through gritted teeth. He didn’t mean his grip to be so hurtful, his tone to sound so harsh or his words to be so angry, but he could feel the anger against the hunters reverberating through him, making his entire body shake with rage and fury – the wolf yearning to come out.

“He’s my friend too.” Scott whispers in a weak voice, fighting against tears flourishing in his eyes.

Derek closed his eyes, easing the pressure of his hand on Scott and sighing deeply. It was true, Scott was Stiles’ friend. He had been Stiles friend for longer before Derek, he had been Stiles’ friend when Derek wasn’t and he probably would be Stiles’ friend long after Derek would be gone. Because he had no illusions. The hunters were ready for him, waiting for him to show up. His only hope was to find the hunters before they killed Stiles, hoping they’d let him go when Gerard’s vengeance was completed, but even that was uncertain.

They were doomed, unless…

“Do you really want to help?” Derek asked.

“Off course I do!” Scott let out, eagerly. “Do you want me to call his father? He’s a sheriff, he’ll certainly be able to help.”

Derek growled. “If I tell you this, you have to promise me not to tell it to anyone.”

“What if I do?”

Derek smirked. “They’ll lock you in a mental ward.” Then the smirk disappears, a weight in his chest taking its place. “And Stiles dies.” Derek adds and something in that potato head that only cares about Allison must’ve clicked, because Scott nods, his expression full of new found purpose.

Derek opened his door and motioned for Scott to come inside, who complied, but still sent Derek an unsure look.

When they were both inside, Derek closed the door and leaned against it, facing Scott. “My name is not Miguel.” Derek says and Scott looks confused. “My name is Derek Hale.”

Scott’s eyes widened with so much intensity that they looked like bulges just waiting to pop out.

“Derek Hale... You mean the one from Beacon Hills… that disappeared when his entire family was burned alive?” Scott asks.

“Yeah, exactly that one. That same night, a girl was also killed in her apartment.”

“Did you kill her?” Scott asks, fearful, his heart starting to beat faster and faster, his breathing becoming shallower and his body shaking. His eyes were starting to wander around the room, unconsciously, lingering in the windows, his instincts certainly yelling _danger!_ , telling him to escape the fastest he could but his conscious mind too busy freaking out to process what his subconscious already did. Derek Hale was a predator, a menace.

Derek nods.

“Why?” Scott asks, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

“She killed my family.”

“Why?”

Derek flashed his eyes blue, let out his claws and opened his mouth, showing off his growing canines. “Some of us were different.”

At that, Scott’s breathing becomes more erratic and he collapses unto the floor, one hand coming clutching to his chest. Derek retracts, unsure of what to do, of what’s going on.

“My pump… medicine… cabinet…” Scott was able to mutter and it only took a moment before Derek remembered a conversation he and Stiles had in what looked like several lives ago.

_“Scott borrowed me one of his pumps.”_

_“He has asthma?”_

_“Yeah. Some of the other kids make fun of him because of it, saying that is why his father left. But that’s stupid. There’s no problem in having asthma. Just because you can’t run as much doesn’t make you less of a person and besides, Scott is great.”_

_“Why did he borrowed you one of his pumps?”_

_“He thought it would help with the panic attacks, you know? If I pretend they’re asthma attacks, maybe they’ll go away if I use a pump.”_

They didn’t.

Derek leaves the room, not entirely happy with leaving Scott unguarded, when he could just scream for help, but he was in trouble. Derek’s werewolf senses were enough for him to know Scott wasn’t faking, so he slammed the next door’s door open and rushed towards the bathroom, following the distinct smell of medicine.

When he found the cabinet, he looked for the pump and rushed back into his apartment, closing the door behind him and quickly handing the pump over to Scott.

“We never killed anyone. _They_ never killed anyone. And not all of us were werewolves. My mom, my aunt and two of my cousins were human and she killed them too.”

“What do you want me to do?” Scott interrupted, taking another whiff from his pump.

“The hunters who took Stiles want revenge for Kate’s death. I’ll spare you the derange details but, if I go alone, I’m dead and so is Stiles.”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?” Scott shouted, growing impatient and standing up, revealing a sense of courage Derek would’ve never given him before. Since they’d met, Derek had only seen him as the dumb kid who drooled upon the mention of his perfect girlfriend. Apparently he was wrong.

“Turn.”

“What?”

“If we are two, our chances increase. Not by a lot, but higher than before.” Derek clarified.

“How?”

Derek sighed. “Usually a human is turned by an alpha’s bite.”

“Then do it.”

“I’m not an alpha.” Derek said and Scott looked at him weirdly. Derek sighed. “There are only two ways to become an alpha. By killing one or by offer. My father was the alpha of our pack and since he was killed by a human, the status remained his.”

“So how do I turn?”

Derek tilts his head to his bedroom, moving towards it, not waiting for Scott to follow him, but he did anyway. He knees beside his bedside table and pushes it aside, taking out the fake flooring and exposing a hollow compartment. He took a box out carefully, letting the air fill with his father’s smell, composed of aftershave, pine tree and wolf fur. Imprinted on the box was a symbol their family hold so dear it was almost a crest – the triskelion.

Derek opened the box, revealing a syringe. “When two wolves meet, none of them with a pack, and they decide to travel together, one of them becomes the alpha. This little bottle contains my father’s blood, the blood of an alpha. If inserted into your bloodstream, you _will_ turn.”

For a long time, Derek left the box in the dungeons under the burned remains of his house, but recently he had opened himself to the possibility of, one day, forming a pack, having a travelling buddy. This was certainly not the way Derek imagined it happening, and he wasn’t ready to take care of another wolf, of another life, not in the least. But he had no choice.

“Then do it.” Scott said, walking forward, baring his arm, moving the sleeve of his shirt up and exposing the skin underneath, lifting his arm towards Derek.

In that moment, Derek realized what had always puzzled him until then. Scott and Stiles might be very different, but they are ever so ready to put their lives on the line for the people they love. They were family, something Derek didn’t have anymore. Something he wanted to get back. Something he hoped he and Stiles could be one day. And somehow, that thought, that wish, seemed now nothing more than a long gone fantasy, a silly dream.

“Don’t you want to know the risks?” Derek asked, standing up.

“I want to save Stiles.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “The bite can either kill you or turn you. If you turn, you will get incredible speed and strength, you won’t need your pump anymore and you’ll never get sick. But, every full moon, the beast inside you will wake and you’ll have the need to kill anything in sight. You’ll need an anchor to keep that beast in control, I can help you with that. Hunters will hunt you until the end of your days. I can help with that too.”

“Then do it.”

Derek grunted, turning his back on Scott to knee over a shoe lying aimlessly on the floor, taking its string and standing back up, wrapping it around Scott’s arm, applying pressure and letting the veins pump out of his skin, visible and exposed.

“Are you sure?” Derek asked him, looking from the blood rushing through the veins to look at Scott’s eyes.

When their eyes met, Derek could feel his heart skip, the fear and doubt poisoning his smell. “JUST DO IT!” He shouted.

Knowing he would probably regret it, but also knowing this was Derek’s best shot of getting Stiles’ back, alive, he deepened the needle into Scott’s vein, releasing the alpha’s blood into the mainstream.

\---

Scott opens his eyes, closing his hands, testing the way his new body responds quicker, sitting on the bed and turning his attention to his arms, flexing and turning them, a stupid wide grin, that some people that weren’t Derek might’ve found adorable, spread across his face. “Wow, dude.”

Derek snorts, stepping down from the shelve he was sitting on. “Now, if you’re done checking yourself out, we’re going.”

“I feel faster, stronger. This is awesome.”

Derek ignores him, leaving the bedroom and walking towards the door. Tracing the scent of a stranger by now would be impossible but, luckily for Derek, he could pick up Stiles’ scent anywhere if he focused hard enough.

“Where are we going?” Scott asks, dumbfounded.

“Rescuing your best friend.” Derek offers dryly.

“Oh, right. Can I call Allison first?”

“You want to call your girlfriend, _now_?” Derek asks and yup, this is the Scott he has come to know in the last couple of months.

“Yeah since we can, you know, _die_. I would like to at least hear her voice one last time.” Scott tells him, wearing these darn puppy dog eyes.

Derek sighs. He would’ve gave everything to hear his family’s voice one last time if offered the chance. “Hurry up.”

“Cool.” Scott lets out. “We can take advantage of the situation and pick up Stiles’ phone, in case his father calls again.”

“What did you tell him?” Derek asks, following Scott into the next door apartment, half scared to hear what dumb excuse Scott had fed Stiles’ dad, who was a _sheriff_.

“Something Stiles told my mom once. I snuck us into a party and it was supposed to be a secret, because we were just fifteen, but Lydia, Stiles’ old flame, had gotten with this major asshole, Jackson, so I had to get him drunk. After it we went to Stiles’ house, since his dad was taking a double shift at the station. When my mom called my cell, I was so wasted that Stiles was the one to take the call. ‘He ate something nasty and now he’s puking his guts out in bathroom. It’s really gross, there’s little chunks of food on the ceiling that I have no idea how it ended up there. It’s best to leave him alone right now, or he’ll damage the phone and puke all over my shirt and he’ll have to buy me new clothes because this blazer was _expensive._ ’ He didn’t thought that, my mom being a nurse, would want to help. We both ended up getting grounded for a month.” Scott said with a shrug, sitting by his computer.

Derek chuckled, because it was gross and visual and totally Stiles. And then he felt like crying, because the one person he loved more than anything in the world could be dead by now. Because everything Derek touched turned to ashes.

As the computer started up, Derek leaned against the wall behind Scott, crossing his arms over his chest, facing the computer screen. Scott turned around when he was about to log into skype. “Are you going to stand there?”

“Yup.”

“Fine.”

Scott turns to face the screen again, trying to block Derek’s view with his head, and failing, as he logs into skype and then Derek sees it before Scott clicks the name, opening a different window. The name taunting him, making fun of him, because his life was all a big joke.

_Allison Argent._

“Allison is an _Argent_?” He hears himself shout before he can stop himself, the words blurting out of his mouth as he yanks Scott out of his seat, knocking down a chair and pinning the beta against the wall.

“What the hell men?” Scott shouts back.

“Answer me!” Derek roars, a glimmer of red sparkling out of Scott’s now yellow ones, not meaning to use his alpha’s voice and making a mental note to be more careful about that in the future. His dad had only used it once on him, and he had hated him for it until the day he died.

“Yes.” Scott answers faintly, looking disoriented for a second. “What’s the problem with that?” He shouts back.

“Kate was an Argent. The hunters that took Stiles are commanded by an Argent and you’re dating one!” Derek tells him, enlightenment flashing through Scott’s eyes as Derek has an idea.

“Call her.” Derek says, pushing Scott back towards the computer.

“What?”

“I’m going to use you as a bargaining chip.” Derek reveals.

“But I’m a werewolf.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “But she doesn’t know that.”

“Oh. Smart.” Scott says, sitting back on the chair and facing the screen, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. “What do I say?”

Derek grunts. “What do you usually do?”

“Video call.” He says and Derek waves with his hand for Scott to go ahead. “Right.”

Scott starts the call and a horrible sound spurs out of the columns that make Derek cringe. Scott almost jumps out of the chair, his hands halfway to cover his hears when he brings himself to turn down the volume. “Shit, that never bothered me before.”

 _Your hearing is heightened._ Derek was about to say, but he didn’t know how someone could _not_ find that excruciating noise completely maddening, enhanced hearing or not.

Allison picked up at the third ring. “Hi Scott.”

“Hi baby.”

“Who is your friend?”

Scott looks back, like he had forgotten Derek was there, the sight of Allison erasing any other thoughts from his grape sized brain.

Derek fought the urge to roll his eyes, approaching the computer screen wolfishly, leaning over the desk and towards the camera, rubbing his fingers through Scott neck who shift, uncomfortable under his touch.

“My name is Derek Hale.” Derek informs, showing off his teeth as Allison’s eyes widen. “I see you know who I am and you know that I can twist your little boy’s neck with just a twist of my wrist.”

“Don’t worry babe, he’s not going to hurt me.” Scott reassures with a hint of fear in his voice (and in his smell) that seems to do nothing for Allison. Derek carves his claws into Scott’s neck, as a waning, that make him cringe and shout.

“Don’t hurt him!” Allison screams through the columns, her voice steady and angry, much different from the sweet girl she had been just a few seconds ago. “When did you became an alpha?” She whispers in confusion.

Scott turns to face Derek. “You’re the alpha?” He asks, missing Allison’s expression of shock and horror. Derek carves his nails deeper into Scott’s flesh. “ _Ouch_! What was that for?”

“Now she knows and now Stiles’s going to die and it’s all going to be _your_ fault!” Derek shouts.

“What?”

“Hey, I’m not the one that endangered his _life_!” Scott yells back, shoving Derek’s claws out of his neck.

“Wait…”

“Don’t you dare!” Derek mutters, grabbing Scott by the collar of his t-shirt and lifting him up, Scott’s feet hovering over the apartment’s floor.

“Both of you shut up!” Allison yells through the microphone and both Derek and Scott turn to face the computer screen. “What happened to Stiles?” She asks.

Derek lets Scott fall back on the chair with a thud, the other man releasing a grunt. “He was abducted by _your_ people! He’s being tortured by you and he’s nothing but human! And you have the nerve to say _we_ are the monsters?!” Derek yells, his body shaking.

“Dad would never agree with that.” Allison whispers to herself, shaking her head.

“Wake up! They’re all the same! _You_ ’re all the same.” Derek shouts.

Allison looks back at him with a cold stare. “Oh, we are, aren’t we?” She says. “They only told me about the so called family business this summer, after I graduated from high school. They told me about you and your vendetta against our family, against my aunt. I was actually part of the hunting crew for almost the entire summer because I loved my aunt. She always let me do all the things my dad wouldn’t. She took me to buy clothes highly inappropriate for my age and let me wear enough make up to rival a clown.” Allison chuckles, the tears obvious in her eyes, and covers her mouth with one hand. “But this one night I heard a conversation between one of the hunters and my grandfather, Gerard, talking about how Kate had killed your family at their order, that she had killed human children and I didn’t knew what to do or what to do believe in anymore so I just left. And then I found Scott.” Allison’s eyes sparkled. “The most kind and honest person I ever met, despite being a big duffus.” She says, choking on a breath. “And now you’re one of them…” She whispers and Derek has no words because she’s nothing like Kate or any hunter he ever met and, when their eyes meet through the camera, he sees compassion in her eyes.

“Can you help us?” Scott asks and his voice is hoarse. “Is there some place they’ve might have taken him?”

Allison nods, cleaning the tears out of her eyes with the back of her hand. “They have a couple of safe houses. I think I kept a list.” She says, going off to find it.

Allison finds the list and scans it, sending it to the two werewolves via e-mail. Going through the various locations, they find that there is actually a safe house just outside of town and decide to go there immediately.

“I’m going to call my dad and tell him about what is going on. I’m certain he has no idea of what is happening. He can’t.” Allison whispers, more to herself than to Derek and Scott.

“Hey, Al.” Scott calls and Allison looks back at him, seemingly lost. “We are going to make this work.” He tells her with such conviction that even Derek believes they will, against all odds. Because if they can, then maybe… “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Allison whispers, kissing him goodbye. “And good luck.”

Scott nods.

“Thank you.” Derek is able to mutter and Allison gives him a weak smile, her lips motioning a silent ‘I’m sorry _’_ and then she’s gone, the computer screen fading to black.

Maybe there are good hunters after all.

\---

They are in Derek’s Camaro, driving to the location of the safe house when the distinct music of Stiles’ cellphone ‘I’m sexy and I know it’ fills the interior of the sports car. “Who is it?” Derek asks, looking at Scott through the corner of his eye.

Scott picks the phone out of his pocket and grunts. “His dad.” Scott sighs, answering the call. “Hey Sheriff Stilinski, how is everything?”

“Everything’s fine, Scott. How’s my son?” Derek hears the gruff sound of the Sheriff’s voice ask through the sound piece and is remembered of the worst phone call of his life, tightening his grip around the steering wheel and trying to focus on the road.

“He’s better but since he kind of spent the entire night in the bathroom vomiting, now he’s lying down, sleeping like a rock.”

A car honks.

“Are you outside?”

“Hum, no. I mean, I’m at the window. The reception in this building is awful.”

Derek rolls his eyes, gritting his teeth. _Idiot._

“Really? Stiles never complains about it.”

“End the call!” Derek says through a muttered whisper.

“Yeah, you know Stiles, never complaining about anything. Oh, look at that, the oven just went on, have to go. Stiles will call you when he wakes up.” Scott says, turning off the call.

Derek gives Scott a dirty look.

“What?” Scott asks.

_Stiles complains about everything. Besides, it’s nine am, why would the oven even be on? According to Stiles you don’t know how to cook without turning the most simple of recipes in the most deadly of dishes. Stiles does the cooking. He’s supposedly asleep. And the gas work on the building sucks, Stiles only used it once and the apartment smelled of ashes so much I had to contain myself not to pick him up and run the hell out of dodge._

“Nothing.” Derek mutters.

\---

Derek and Scott are walking carefully through the forest, after leaving the Camaro by the side of the road and following the dirty path, hoping to avoid unwanted attention. The later the Argents learn they’re here, the higher chance they will have not dying and saving Stiles.

“Watch where you step.” Derek advises. “The Argents probably set traps everywhere.”

_Whoosh._

Derek turns around, finding Scott in the middle of the air with a knot tied to his left foot. “A little help here?” Scott shrugs with an apologetic expression.

Derek rolls his eyes and growls. “Idiot.” He mutters under his breath and turns away from Scott, resuming his walk.

“Hey, I heard that!” Scott throws back. “And don’t leave me here.” He yells, the branch starting to crack under his weight.

“Get yourself down.”

After a few seconds, Derek hears a subtle thud and a moment later Scott is back behind him, both of them throttling towards the safe house whose high roofs start peeking through the tree tops.  

A shadow of movement catches Derek’s attention by the perimeter of the house and he grabs Scott by the shirt, dragging him over to hide behind a tree.

Scott grunts. “Could you warn me before manhandling me?” He asks.

“Shush.” Derek commands, looking over to the two hunters patrolling the house, which are then joined by a third that Derek recognizes from earlier, when he first spotted the hunters in town. “They might say something important.”

 “What is all the commotion inside?” Hunter One asks.

“Chris called and somehow he knows we are holding the kid captive. He’s furious and on his way. We have orders to shoot him on sight.” Hunter Three says, displeased.

Scott sighs with relief. “It seems Allison was right about her father.”

 _Yeah, let’s just hope he arrives in time to make a difference._ Derek thinks.

“Gerard wants us to kill his son?” Hunter Two asks, mildly shocked.

“Not unless it’s absolutely necessary.” Hunter Three answers with a cringe. “Honestly, I think he’s gone mad. Lying to Chris to torture some poor kid is bad enough, but the werewolf killed Gerard’s daughter so I could look the other way. But I’ve hunted with Chris for years now! He’s my partner. I can’t kill him.”

“Neither can I.” Hunter Two agrees.

“Shoot for the legs then.” Hunter One says with a shrug, returning to his patrolling root followed by Two.

Hunter Three stands put, doubt poisoning his scent.

“Who are these people!?” Scott asks, eyes wide, horrified.

Before Derek can answer, a muffled and almost inaudible scream, even for werewolf ears, but not any less agonizing, fills the air. _Stiles._

A shockwave vibrates through Derek’s body, his eyes turning to red, claws coming out, the beast inside him taking charge, his growl lost in the pained screams of his partner, the man he loves, feeling something inside of him break because Stiles doesn’t deserve this. He’s the person most deserving of love Derek has ever known and Derek has caused him nothing but pain.

“Let’s go.” Derek mutters, walking towards the front of the house, spotting another two hunters protecting its entrance.

Derek steps forward and feels Scott’s hand pulling him back. When he faces him, he sees a man barely capable of holding himself together.

“I know you want to kill them all, tear this house apart and rip them apart with it, limb by limb, make them suffer for what they did to Stiles, for what they _are_ doing to Stiles. But we can’t, Derek. We are the good guys. We can’t do this.” Scott tells him, his eyes facing the claws on his fingers, speaking more to himself than to the wolf in front of him.

“We’re not killers.” Derek agrees, pushing the memory of feeling Kate’s life on his hands, the rush he felt when the life of the woman that killed his entire family and destroyed his life left her body, when her heart stood still and the heat started fading from the lifeless corpse. And then came the guilt and the sorrow and the self-hatred.

If it was up to Derek, Scott would never feel like that. “We’re not killers.” He repeated.

“So, how are we not killing them?” Scott asked.

“Beau Geste.” Derek whispers with a smirk, remembering the days when he and Laura would hide in the forest and scare off campers. Of course their father would always ground them afterwards.

“The what now?”

“The Beau Geste Effect.” Derek clarifies, looking at Scott and finding himself faced with a blank stare, grunting. “If they modulate their howls with a rapid shift in tone, two wolves can sound like twenty.”

“Oh. That will scare them off.”

_Duh._

“So, we’ll move towards opposite directions and do it. Remember, change the tone of your howls really quickly or it won’t work and Stiles will be dead and, without the element of surprise, so will us.”

Scott rolls his eyes, frustrated. “I know, Derek. I’m not stupid, I know what’s at stake here.”

Derek chooses not to answer that, starting to howl at the skies, moving back and forth through the forest, changing his tone quickly, Scott doing the same thing, and within a couple of minutes the hunters in the outside of the house are in a frantic panic, clearly thinking they’re outnumbered and surrounded by vengeful werewolves, fleeing to their cars, running away with their guns between their legs.

Derek and Scott meet again by the entrance of the house. “That was so _cool_ , man.” Scott shouts, ecstatic.

Derek looks at the door. “There are still hunters inside.” He says and as quickly as Scott was all enthusiasm and excitement, he’s quiet and wary.

Derek listens carefully, only hearing heartbeats in the basement of the house. “Follow behind me and remember, move slowly and with caution.” He advises. Just because there are no hunters waiting for them, it doesn’t mean it’s safe.

Scott grunts but does as he’s ordered.

Derek turns the doorknob, stepping into the empty hall and looking around. “Now to find the door leading towards the basement.”

“I’ll start on this side.” Scott says, opening the door exactly by his right.

“ _No_!” Derek shouts but it’s useless, Scott’s already turning the doorknob and Derek hears a mortal click. “Get out of the way!” He yells as the blast is heard, licks of fire stretching out of the room and giving Scott gentle burning caresses as he is propelled backwards, hitting the ground with a yelp.

Derek stomps backwards, stumbling and falling, his back hitting the wall. The smell of ashes and burned skin fill the hallway, poising the air and Derek can’t breathe, the scent of death and destruction taking cover under his skin. Derek feels a hint of pain in his arms, but it’s not enough. It was never enough. He feels lost and he wants to die just to ease the pain, just a little bit.

His back slides down across the wall, his lungs rejecting the infected air. Unable to breath, Derek welcomes death as a gift because at least he’ll not be alone anymore. Because he’s alone. So alone. His family’s gone. Stiles is gone.

“Derek.”

_Stiles._

“Derek.” Derek hears again and it’s just a muffled whisper, low and weak, stripped of strength, hope or the electrifying and contagious energy so characteristic of Stiles, but it’s still there, Stiles is still fighting.

Derek forces his eyes opens, only realizing his body was shaking when it stops. He removes the arms covering his head, trying to remember when he did that. He feels his cheeks wet, his eyes sore and so he cleans the tears away with the back of his hand, without even knowing he had been crying.

“Stiles.” Derek whispers as he gets up.

“Derek.” Scott mutters in pain, still lying down on the floor.

Derek walks over to Scott’s body, his skin darkened by the ashes, his clothes still emanating smoke, burnt from the flames, his clothes and skin filled with holes. Derek kneels beside him and removes one of the round little objects incrusted in Scott’s skin, who grunts upon its removal.

Derek sighs of relief, the foreign objects nothing more than small chunks of lead.

Derek pats Scott on the arm, ignoring his grunts of pain. “Remove them and you’ll heal.” He says, standing back up and walking over to each door, trying to trace Stiles’ scent from the ashes, the burnt flesh, the mountain ash, wolfsbane and blood choking the air. When he stands by the third door, the sweetest hint of cinnamon, vanilla and mint hit him, bringing back so many memories that Derek founds his eyes drowned in tears once again, feeling a knot in his chest when he realizes this is also the room that smells more like blood, fresh blood coupled with Stiles’ scent.

Derek growls as his body shakes with the transformation, the anger he feels inside building up, his bones shifting and turning as he kicks the door, sending it flying through the air. Let the hunters know the big bad wolf is coming, let them tremble in fear.

As soon as Derek steps into the basement, gunfire rains down on him and Derek jumps through the flight of stairs, kicking one of the hunters right in the nose, a crack that makes the second hunter cringe and hurry up the stairs echoes loudly through the basement.

Derek turns to Gerard that is now hiding behind a glass wall, but Derek almost doesn’t acknowledge the older man, his eyes widening, his heart shattering and his stomach writhing, like he’s going to throw up his guts out at any second when his eyes find him, the barrel of a shot gun pointing at its temple.

_Stiles._

Derek feels all the anger leaving his body as he sees Stiles, hands and feet tied with steel cuffs, his upper body hanging mid hair from the wall. Bare chest revealing the atrocities that the Argents – no, that Gerard had done to him, his torso filled with open wounds, his chest covered in dry blood and dirt, fresh blood pouring down unto his jeans, dyed red, and dripping into the floor.

Stiles’ head lifts up and he releases a strangled grunt, like that small movement took all the strength he had left, his face covered in bruises, dark circles beneath his eyes, so dark Derek thinks they’re incrusted into his skin. Derek realizes he’s come inside the glass tomb when Stiles looks at him through half-closed eye lids, his eyes stripped of all the light and the hope they used to hold.

“Derek…” He whispers, presenting Derek with a small smile that, if anything, made him want to cry more. “You found me.” Stiles says with a dry voice, coughing.

“Did you ever doubt I would?” Derek whispered, his voice tainted by the tears wanting to crawl their way out of his eyes.

Gerard laughs. “What a lovely reunion.” He says. “Now, it’s time to say goodbye to your lover boy.”

Derek growls, moving forward and tackling Gerard against the wall, grabbing the shot gun and pulling it away from Stiles as it fires, shattering the glass coffin and removing the gun from beneath the old man’s clutches.

Derek steps back, pointing the gun at the despicable old man.

“Kill me.” Gerard yearns with a sick smirk on his face. “KILL ME!” He shouts again, throwing a maniac laugh. “Kill me like you killed my daughter. That lying bitch! When I discovered you two were dating, I was so mad I wanted to kill her myself. Did I ever told you how I found out? We monitor video cameras and, since we knew Beacon Hills was home to a pack, the Hales, you kept a close eye. Of course no one really knew how you all looked like, only that you owned a house in the woods and since you kept out of trouble, we didn’t care that much. But then a hunter spotted my daughter with a werewolf, your eyes flashing at the camera so we decided to investigate, and my daughter was always with a man, of course he always wore sunglasses in all the other photos and videos.”

“SHUT UP!” Derek shouted and Gerard laughed again.

“It hurts hearing the truth, doesn’t it? I mean, your family was always so careful, erasing their data from everywhere, having no pictures on record, hiding the true location of their house. Don’t letting anyone know you all that well. Most people on that god forsaken town didn’t even know that well how you all looked like. Really smart. And then you go ahead and blow it up. How was it, Derek? Left in a hurry and couldn’t be bothered to go back for the sunglasses? It was only one time, right? What could go wrong?”

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” Derek yelled, gripping his hand tighter around the gun, his finger glued to the trigger, stepping closer to the vile man.

“As you wish. Well, after that, I gave her a choice, an opportunity to redeem herself. I mean, she’s only human and she w _as_ daughter. I’m a fair man, but even then, she spared _your_ life. Choose you over family, her own blood and every day I regret not being the one to feel her life being drained out of her body.” Gerard stood up. “Now kill me.”

“No.”

If he shoot Gerard, he would be a monster, a monster like Gerard was, a monster Stiles didn’t believe he was, so Derek let lowered the gun, because you do have a choice. Allison decided not become a hunter, his family decided not to be monsters, so he can decide not to pull the trigger.

“If you don’t, I’ll kill him.” Gerard said, taking a knife out of his pocket and going towards Stiles’ neck.

Derek pointed the gun to one of his arms, but before he could pull the trigger, another shot was heard, cutting through the air and for a split second, Derek thought how stupid he had been to trust a hunter, but then Gerard’s hand gave way of the knife, the man falling on the floor with a bullet hole still smoking from the middle of his head.

Derek let the shot gun fall, propelling his body towards Stiles and breaking the cuffs, holding Stiles’ weight as he fell, his hands wrapping around Derek’s neck.

“Truthfully, the glass coffin gave me pause.” Stiles whispered in his ear as he rubbed his face along Derek’s jaw, Derek feeling the warmth of Stiles’ skin against his stubble, rolling his eyes and squeezing his arms around Stiles,’ thankful to be able to hold him in his arms again, to feel his heat and his skin, to hear his heartbeat and his voice. “Ouch.” Stiles whines.

“Sorry.” Derek says, loosening his grip. “That will teach you not to make a joke out of everything.” He says, lifting Stiles up.

“If I don’t, I think this would all crush me.” Stiles lets out, Derek feeling the tears crippling his voice.

“Then make another one.” Derek tells him as he walks past Chris, giving him a nod and tilting his head towards the camera in a corner of the room, pointing at the fallen old man and the shattered glass. Chris nods, barely acknowledging him and Derek climbs back up the stairs.

“I guess bondage is totally out of our sex kinks.” Stiles says with a muffled voice.

“Definitely.” And with that, Stiles starts crying, tear after tear falling across his face and landing into Derek’s shirt, letting himself fall apart into his shoulder, the tears washing over his pain. “You’re safe here.” Derek reassures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be a small one, to wrap up this story.


End file.
